Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'
by roguespirit
Summary: Three has given Eight the go-ahead to try and court her, but by accident or on purpose, she isn't making it easy. With major changes coming to her life and the ghost of old problems coming to the forefront, will Eight be able to bring down Three's walls to get at her soft gooey centre, or will she break on her hard shell? A sequel to "Looking, Feeling, Touching."
1. Chapter 1

Eight's pinky grazed Three's cheek as her fist flew through the space the inkling's head had been a fraction of a second before and fought the urge to curse at how slippery inklings could be.

Three ducked low and went for her midsection but Eight managed to jump back and tried for a right hook as Three came back up. Unfortunately, Three had all but anticipated the movement and deflected the attack, forcing Eight to block a strike to her chest with her forearm.

Whoever said inklings were weaker than octolings in close combat had obviously never met Agent 3. After nearly an hour, she was still just as dangerous as she had been at the start. She was exhausted, true, but her own stubbornness refused to let it slow her. Eight had paced herself better and an octoling's slower metabolism gave her better endurance in the long run, but it was still only enough for her to keep pace with her opponent.

_But that tenaciousness is one of the things I love about her._

Three attacked again, going for a chin strike, but Eight deflected it. Three followed that up by trying to strike her chin from underneath. It nearly worked but Eight managed to surprise her with a backflip that not only forced Three back for fear of a kick but allowed her to regain some distance. Back on her feet, Eight adopted a new stance, ready for the next attack.

There was a loud clack in the air, causing both combatants to pause and turn.

"Good, good." Captain Cuttlefish said, looking pleased as he sat on the porch of Cuttlefish Cabin, both hands atop his cane.

"Three," he said. "You're doing a good job of hiding your exhaustion but you're pushing yourself too hard. You need to learn to pace yourself for long fights if you have a tough opponent. Smarter, not harder, remember? Patience." Three winced slightly then her mantle flashed a light green tone.

"Eight, you held your own pretty well and forced Three to expend a lot of energy to get through your defenses while preserving your own energy, but you're too defensive. You had a lot of opportunity for attack that you let slip by. You need to learn to identify those and take advantage of them. No point having all that energy and not using it. Look for weaknesses or chinks in the armour, and exploit them."

Eight bowed humbly. "I understand."

"Good. I think it's time we stopped now. Another round and you two won't have enough energy to walk home." He chuckled. "Well, it's good to see young'uns using all that energy for something useful."

"Are you suggesting I'm wasting my energy?"

Marie emerged from within the cabin, carrying a pair of damp towels. She wore a lightly stained apron over a simple light-green t-shirt and black leggings. Her tentacles were tied up behind her head with a simple white hoop.

Startled, Captain Cuttlefish turned around and laughed awkwardly. "'Course not, Agent 2. I know you work hard every day."

"In addition to looking after you because you refuse to retire." She hung the towels on a rack and crossed her arms, glaring down at him for a second before switching her gaze to Eight and Three.

Eight's hearts skipped when their eyes met. She still couldn't get over seeing one of her idols in person like this in such a casual setting. Not only did she still maintain that strength of will and steadfastness she admired, but even in plain clothing and an apron she was gorgeous.

"You two should head home and rest. Three, I'll need you to come to our place tomorrow morning. Callie and I have something we need to discuss with you."

That sounded ominous to Eight but Three appeared unconcerned as her mantle flashed green again in reply.

Using their mantles, Inklings used a kind of colour language they called "tuk'yan", literally meaning: "tongueless." It was used in a way similar to body language, the way different colours, tones, and shades conveyed different emotions - conscious and subconscious. Different combinations of coloured spots, waves, and ripples conveyed more complex meanings. Even the speed of a flash or pulse could mean different things. It never ceased to fascinate Eight how they were able to communicate so effectively without a word. Unfortunately, to non inklings, it was all but incomprehensible, especially when Inklings got excited and the colours and patterns changed so quickly that Eight couldn't tell where one word stopped and another began.

Marie looked back down at her grandfather.

"Lunch is almost ready. Four will be along in a few hours for patrol and I want you fed and napped before she gets here."

"I don't need no dang nap! I've got many years yet before I choke, little missy."

"Oh?" Marie put her hands on her hips and gave him a flat stare. "So you don't need your grandsquids to cook for you once in a while? To clean up your own home or do your grocery shopping?" Her mantle changed to show blotches of purple and crimson, her golden eyes hardening.

Captain Cuttlefish didn't wilt, exactly, but he did lean away from her a tiny bit. After several seconds without a response, Marie said, "that's what I thought." Her mantle cooled back to it's normal grey and lime then she headed back into the cabin. "Come inside and wash up."

Cuttlefish grumbled. "Getting more like her mother every minute."

Eight saw Three smirk and Eight couldn't help but share it. After all, what better compliment was there to give a granddaughter?

Three walked over to the cabin and grabbed one of the damp towels, rubbing it on her bare skin to help cool herself. Her funnel was still leaking green ink down her back and onto the ground as her body worked to remove the excess heat.

"Better go, Gramps." She said. "Or she'll make me kick you in there."

"And you'd do it too." He grumbled again. "Insubordination and mutiny, I say!"

"Gramps." Marie's impatient warning tone came from inside. "Stop harassing the agents and get in here."

Cuttlefish huffed and Three helped him stand to his feet.

"Inkyora," he muttered as he tottered inside. "Always think they're the boss, always think they know everything."

Three rolled her eyes and then grabbed the other damp towel, tossing it at Eight. She caught it and brought the towel to her face. The refreshing dampness was a great relief after their long workout. The very idea of using damp towels to cool oneself after training was a luxury unimaginable in her army days.

As Three's focus returned to wiping herself down, Eight took that moment to discreetly look over and admire the inkling's body.

She was slim, as inklings tended to be, but also very fit. Her muscles were not glaring but they still defined the shape of her body, creating undulations in the smooth lines of her figure. Clad only in a simple sport top that just covered her chest, and a pair of light shorts, she didn't have much left to her imagination. She was particularly fond of Three's strong arms and shoulders.

As Eight wiped down her own body, it was easy to notice the contrast not only between her and Three but also between the her now and the her from more than two months ago when she first arrived on the surface.

Thanks to plenty of healthy and hearty eating, Eight's body had filled out considerably, to the point where her old uniform no longer fit the same. She wasn't even sure she could squeeze herself into it anymore.

Fat had accumulated around her nutrirae, creating two small mounds on her chest. Her waist was still flat but the way it narrowed was less abrupt, with a gentler curve to her hips, thighs, and rear, which themselves had thickened.

She had expressed worries about her rapidly changing body to Marina who insisted that it was normal. Pearl had commented that she looked much healthier now and less malnourished. Both had reassured her that this was probably more her "natural" look, how she was meant to be if healthy and properly fed.

It all seemed wrong to her eyes. When she looked in the mirror, she saw someone older than sixteen. Such attributes were for an octoling who was closer to a full adult, like Marina. It was honestly a bit embarrassing, especially when she was among her own kind, most of whom were still little better fed than they had been in the army. It made her stand out as someone obviously living a comfortable life. Marina promised her it would plateau soon as long as she watched what she ate.

Eight winced as she rubbed the towel over a sore spot on her body. Three hadn't gone easy on her and their sparring matches were one of the few times she was grateful for her body's new natural padding. On the other hand, the fact that Three didn't think she could afford to hold back did give her a sense of pride.

Cooled, Eight and Three hung the now dirty towels on the rack and got dressed. Eight had brought clothes she often wore during turf battles and Three had done the same.

It was a battle in itself for Eight, trying to keep her eyes off of Three's body. Somehow Three putting on more clothes to cover it made it all the more tempting to look. She did catch a faint whiff of Three's scent underneath the powerful smell of hot ink: a hint of lime and a little of something spicy.

Eight fought the notion that bubbled in her mind to try and smell Three's used towel while the inkling's back was turned. No, she couldn't do that, that was strange and she didn't need Three thinking her odd right now, not with what she had planned.

Eight held her bag in front of her and couldn't help but blush and fidget a little as she asked, "what are you doing for lunch?"

Three's mantle pulsed grey. "I'll probably just head home. I can make it until then."

"Well," Eight began, her voice soft even while her hearts pounded in her chest as if they were still sparring. "If you do not want to wait, I packed an extra big lunch." She held up her bag. "I thought we could eat together, in a park perhaps."

Three looked at her, then at the bag, then back up at her. She pulsed blue and then flashed green before nodding, her cheeks colouring ever so slightly.

Eight giggled excitedly, hopping and skipping merrily after Three as they headed for the sewer grate.

—

Three let Eight lead her to the park. She probably had a particular place in mind. She was wearing that broad smile again, the kind that just refused to let her face return to a neutral expression.

Three tried to hide her discomfort. It wasn't Eight's fault. She felt something for Eight, but she wasn't sure what it was yet. It wasn't love, at least not in the romantic sense, but it was stronger than seeing Eight as a friend, or at least a desire to. So, until she knew what that feeling was, she couldn't tell Eight "no" anymore than she could "yes." Her quandary felt silly and childish, yet she couldn't overcome it. Despite this, her hearts still beat at a faster rate than they should have been.

Eight brought them to a small, quiet park. It was mostly play structures for small children and a few benches for supervising parents or nannies to sit on. Eight sat them on one such bench nestled between a pair of bushes.

Eight pulled a small container from her bag and opened it, revealing a collection of fried fishballs, sliced carrots, and a single tart that was either strawberry or raspberry.

Three accepted the container with some apprehension. She had eaten a few things made by Eight in the past and they'd always been acceptable, but they sometimes tasted odd.

One of the fishballs had already been skewered with a toothpick so she grabbed that one first. Eight had taken out her own container and was silently giving thanks. It made Three a little conscious of her own recent lack of piety, so she gave quick thanks in her head then popped the fried fish meat in her mouth.

The meat was cold, of course, but still moist and easy to chew. She swished it around in her mouth, testing it before she felt comfortable swallowing.

She saw Eight, looking at her, fidgeting a little. She was anticipating something.

"Um… it tastes good."

Eight beamed, her smile stretching to each of her round ears. It was almost blinding. "Thank you! I'm glad you like it." Only then did Eight start eating her own identical lunch.

Relieved to have acted correctly. Three speared another fishball and chewed slowly, savouring the taste of meat. Eight did the same, creating a silence between them that stretched uncomfortably onwards.

She hated moments like this, where nobody was talking even though they were supposed to be hanging out together. There was never this kind of thing when hanging out with the NSS. Partly because she never felt awkward around Callie and Marie, and partly because Four never shut up. But she had never been good at small talk or talking in general. She never knew what to say. It was always one of the others that opened topics.

"This might be none of my concern, but do you know what it is Callie and Marie want to speak to you about?" Eight asked.

Three was surprised that Eight spoke up. She was normally rather quiet too. Maybe she just couldn't take the silence or perhaps she actually wanted to talk.

_I wonder if it's because she likes me._ She fought off the threat of a blush and then flashed red in a negative but then remembered that Eight didn't understand tuk'yan.

Save for Eight, everyone she was close to was another inkling so she was constantly forgetting. Part of her felt bad for that, as if she was somehow still seeing Eight as inferior on some level.

"No."

"I see."

That was the end of that topic. As far as Three was concerned, there was nothing else to say. She could speculate but trying to guess Callie and Marie's motivations did nothing but make her head spin.

Three munched on a couple of carrot slices and watched a bird bathe itself in a small puddle left over from that morning's rain.

_I bet birds don't have much to think about when it comes to dating. They probably don't have any awkward conversations._

She sighed inwardly, wondering how it was that her iya and mother had not only managed to bond together but find her father too.

_They make finding love seem so easy._

Part of her told her she should ask her iya for advice regarding dating, but that would open the lid on something Three was determined to keep hidden, and every time the notion came up, it gave her an unpleasant twisting feeling in her gut.

Her life as Agent 3 and the world Agent 3 was a part of was something she had to keep secret, and separate. Revealing even a tiny sliver of that life increased the risk of the rest being found out. It was hard enough to come up with reasonable excuses for her many absences or other bizarre activities. Suddenly telling them she was seeing someone romantically would be such a shock that it would provoke a veritable avalanche of questions she didn't want to have to answer. No, it was best to keep her life at home and her life as Agent 3 or Maiya, separate, as she had been doing for over two years now. Yeah, that was best.

"How is your iya?" Eight asked, trying a new topic. Her accent grew thick on the word 'iya.' Hardly surprising since, as far as Three knew, Octarian society didn't have an equivalent to an iya.

"She's eating well," Three replied slowly. She didn't like talking about her family to anyone other than Callie and Marie but it was no secret to the others that her iya was expecting and Eight would naturally be curious.

"She has been having some trouble sleeping with the way she's been swelling though, and she's often hot and uncomfortable. Dad's still trying to find a tank we can use that'll fit in the house. He doesn't want to have to settle for a bowl."

Eight shuddered and Three raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just a chill," Eight said. "I'm still not used to the change in the weather, or any changes in weather for that matter. The domes were often unpleasant but at least they were consistent."

"You don't like it?"

"No, I do like it." Eight peered up at the sky, her amber eyes shining as she smiled.

"The drifting of clouds across the sky, the shining of the actual sun and it's natural warmth upon me. I love the rain, the sound it makes when it hits my window, the smell it leaves behind, the way it makes everything it touches look glossy. I love the patterns lightning makes. Did you know that counting the seconds between the flash and when you hear the thunder gives you a rough estimate of how far away it is?"

"Uh… no," Three lied. Really, she was pretty sure everyone knew that, but she couldn't bring herself to stomp on Eight's uplifting mood. _Besides, she has such a pretty smile._

"Pearl told me. I didn't think she would be the type of person to notice such things."

Eight continued staring up and Three found herself once again with nothing to say. _Some date I am- No, no this isn't a date. We haven't been on a date yet. This is just lunch and we're just hanging out. That's all it is._

Three tried to coax her hearts into slowing down from their suddenly quick tempo and fished around in her container, finding only the tart left.

Three bit into it and chewed thoughtfully. She didn't eat tarts very often, couldn't even remember the last time she had one. This tasted pretty good though.

She looked back at Eight who was now staring back at her again. Three made a small 'urk' and then licked her lips. "Um… it's good. Strawberry?"

"Yes." Eight looked pleased with herself. "I found a recipe in the newspaper and I just had to try it. I am very glad you like it."

"Y-yeah, I like it."

Three quickly gobbled up the rest of the tart and closed the container. "Thanks for the lunch, Eight. I should probably get home now."

Eight looked as though she had just been kicked. That pitiful look was like a knife to Three's gut. Hardly surprising since Three was basically eating and running.

"Already?"

"Sorry, but I really need to head home. With my iya how she is and Dad working extra hours, I need to be home to help."

"A-ah." Eight bowed her head. "I am sorry. I am still learning about the way families work. In Octarian society, every mother has multiple nurses to care for her."

"It's fine." Three said, standing up. "Really, it's fine. You'll learn eventually."

"I will," Eight assured her.

Three started walking away, glad to be done with that awkward moment. Other than being agents, loving turf war, and being Squid Sisters fans, it was hard to tell what else they had in common.

_Still, there's something about her that I really like, I know there is. I just wish I knew what it was._

"I could help!"

Three stopped and slowly turned around. Eight was on her feet, hands balled into fists, her face tinted blue, her eyes a mix of apprehension and determination.

"What?"

"I could help your family," Eight offered. "I am not terribly busy with Pearl and Marina since they are not at home much lately, so I am certain I could spare some time to ease your iya's burdens."

Three bit her bottom lip. The offer was a generous one, considering what little free time Eight had, but that odd feeling pulled at her again, twisting and squirming.

"I… no, it couldn't work. Even if I trust you, my parents don't know you. I wouldn't even be able to explain why or how I trust you because we have to keep the NSS a secret. I can't suddenly have a friend my parents have never even heard of before come and offer to help take care of things."

"O-oh, I suppose that's true."

Eight's eyes fell, her body sagging as if being slowly deflated. It made Three feel awful, taking the wind out of her sails like that. She knew Eight was only trying to help. In the domes, Octarians survived by helping and supporting each other. The selfish were considered parasites and scorned.

Three turned around and walked back to Eight. The octoling looked up as she approached and straightened as Three stopped in front of her.

"I…" Three searched for the right words. "I really appreciate you thinking of us- or of them, like that. I…trust you, Eight, really. It just wouldn't work out, that's all."

Eight looked into her eyes. It took a conscious effort to not avert her gaze; although, Three wasn't sure why. She wasn't lying and she wasn't intimidated, so why would she feel the need to look away?

"Do you think your family might not approve of our relationship?"

Three frowned. "No. Why do you think that?"

Eight took a step back, her amber eyes turning towards the ground. "I have the impression that you don't want me to meet you family."

That odd feeling twisted in Three's gut with a vengeance, it felt almost like a hot knife in her ink sac. It was actually making her feel physically ill.

"I… that's not it. I think my family would be shocked to see me trying to date anyone, not just you."

"O-oh, I see. I apologize for my assumption."

"N-no, it's okay. I know I'm not very good at this."

"Oh no, that is not what I meant. I… I know you are trying. It is not your fault if you do not feel the same way."

_But I want to._

She didn't know how she knew or why, but she knew that a part of her wanted to be with Eight, and yet that stupid feeling always made her hesitate, always made her pull back, uncertain. No, maybe that was an excuse. She had spent the better part of two years killing every octarian she encountered. Maybe a part of her simply couldn't allow one near her loved ones, even one she trusted as much as Eight. The very idea she would hold such a prejudice against a trusted comrade and friend like Eight made her feel guilty. Maybe that's what that twisting pain was.

"You're…" Three's hands balled into fists. Couldn't she manage to utter even one tiny compliment to a friend? "Yo-You're already a better girlfriend than I could ever be." She blurted. And she shuddered, as if suffering recoil.

Eight stared at her, bewildered for a moment, and then her lips curled upwards in a smile, her eyes sparkling like Inkopolis bay at sunset.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Three managed a stiff nod then, just as stiffly, turned and walked away. Her hearts thundered, her chest was tight, and that annoying feeling was still worming its way in her gut. In spite of all that, she also felt a hint of relief, as if she had been holding a small bit of breath and had finally released it.

She hoped that she had done a good thing. Hope was all she had, because if there was one thing she couldn't believe in right then, it was herself.

**As I said in the summary, I made this as a sequel to "Looking, Feeling, Touching" as an apology to everyone who was disappointed by the ending (or lack thereof) of the previous story and how Three and Eight didn't really get together, or it at least felt like a damp rag. I wasn't happy with the end either so I made this story. I learned a lot from doing it. I hope you like it.**


	2. When Life Gives you Choices

Four clutched the collar of the light jacket she was wearing as a gust of wind whipped across the sidewalk. She was still accustomed to the warmth of summer and wasn't yet adapted to the cold. Spending two weeks at a tropical island resort a short while ago hadn't helped her acclimation.

"Suck it up, Agent 4." She mumbled to herself. "It's going to get a lot colder than this."

It was a relief that the highrise building she was heading for was already in view. It's many large windows reflected the morning sun, and the arrangement of its large balconies reminded four of a stepladder. Her eyes focused on the top ones, trying to remember which one belonged to the right penthouse until she got so close she was having to crane her neck.

Someone exiting the building ahead of her gave her suspicious look as she passed. With her weathered jacket and tattered backpack, she probably didn't look like the sort of person who belonged at a building with residents that made six-figure salaries at a minimum.

Four ignored them and pushed through the door into the vestibule. This was as far as she could go on her own.

The guards inside looked up from their cell phones or newspapers and eyed her. She didn't blame them; it was their job to be suspicious of people like her, given the clientele they were protecting.

Four reached for the number pad on the wall and dialed a memorized four digit number. A ringing sound came from the speaker next to the pad and Four waited. On the fourth ring, someone answered.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Eight. Wanna let me in?"

"Of course. Please come in."

There was the sound of beeping followed by a buzzing noise. Four quickly reached for the inside door and it opened with no trouble. From there, she had to sign her name on a sheet at the guard office then went to the elevator. A couple minutes later Eight was welcoming her into Pearl and Marina's penthouse.

The octoling was wearing her maid uniform, the one she had gotten at the fancy designer house, the same place Marie had gotten Four her beautiful dress.

Four gritted her beak as bitter memories surfaced. She banished them by summoning more pleasant memories, like Marie's warm hugs, her honey sweet voice, and wonderful smell. It helped.

"I am happy you could come. It has been rather lonely here recently."

Snapped back to reality, Four hurriedly forced a smile. "I bet. It's tough when your family has to be away for work all the time."

She removed her shoes and jacket then carried her backpack into the living room. Eight wandered towards the penthouse hallway.

"The console is in the entertainment unit on the third shelf from the bottom. I just have a couple of things I need to finish up and then I will be finished."

"Sounds good. It'll probably take me that long to get things set up anyway."

Eight disappeared down the corridor while Four knelt in front of the entertainment system, carefully pulling out the game console and checking the cables. She moved behind the TV and made sure the red, yellow, and white cables were in their matching sockets.

It was a relatively simple matter to move on from there. She took her game out of her bag and put in the disc then her memory card. The great thing about this particular console model was that you didn't have to set up a profile first, you just plugged in and played.

Eight returned a few moments later, the game booted up and Four having finally found the right input channel on the TV remote.

"I haven't tried playing co-op in this game before. You're actually kinda' helping me out here."

"I am happy to help." Eight sat next to her and Four gave her a quick look up and down.

"You're really filling out that uniform now, eh?" She grinned and gave her a playful shove.

Eight blushed. "Ma-Marina tells me that I should stop swelling soon. Apparently, this is what I am supposed to look like."

"Well, you look good. I heard that you and Three had a long sparring bout yesterday. I bet she was lookin' you over the whole time."

Eight chuckled nervously, blushing deeper as she fiddled with the ends of her front tentacles. "Well, I do not think we are at such a stage."

"There's no stage," Four said. "If she's not ogling you now, she just has to start seeing through her own thick head first and then her eyes'll be all over you."

Eight arched an eyebrow. "Is that something a junior should be saying about her senior?"

Four lifted a finger. "But she's also my sister now, and that means I get to tease her and provide my own constructive criticism on how she acts, because I love her."

"That and you enjoy it, yes?"

Four grinned. "Of course. Three teases me back, so it's okay."

"She does?" Eight raised an eyebrow. "She is normally so serious around you."

"Only because she thinks she has to act all responsible and junk. You know, be the example. She's a job first kinda' girl."

"Ah…" Eight nodded. "I suppose the... um, transition from working relationship to personal one is not always smooth. Ah!"

Four raised an eyebrow. Eight's eyes were suddenly wide and her mouth was open, as if in revelation.

"What?"

"I think I may have just realized one of the reasons that my relationship with Three has hit a wall, of sorts. I have been trying various romantic things- for example, I made her lunch yesterday, but nothing really seems to be changing. Is it because she has difficulty seeing me as something other than a comrade or colleague?"

Four frowned and rubbed her thumb over one of her suckers thoughtfully. That kind of thing did sound like Three. She was a girl who tended to see things in black and white with not much grey, at least from what Four had observed.

"Maybe, but you were already her friend. I figured that after everything you'd been through together, you'd have crossed that threshold."

Eight sighed and leaned back into the couch. "I am honestly not certain. She is still something of an enigma to me. Distant and mysterious." Then she smiled. "But she is trying."

"Oh?" Four leaned towards her keenly. "That sounds like something good happened."

Eight giggled like a little girl. "She complimented me yesterday. Not only did she say my lunch was good, but, before she left, she told me that I was already a better girlfriend than she would ever be."

Four's eyes widened. "Wow. I mean, I get the compliment about the lunch, that's basically her being polite, but that last one - that's a pretty big deal for Three."

Eight nodded eagerly, her tentacles flapping happily. "Yes, it took me by surprise. I do not think it changes anything, but I do think Three is slowly becoming more comfortable with me."

Four shrugged and started navigating through the menus to get them playing the game. "No idea. Callie and Marie are the only ones who really understand her. It's kinda scary how loose she gets with them but how stiff she is with everyone else."

"Loose?"

"Um… relaxed, chill, uh… normal? Basically, she acts like most people act around their friends."

Eight shrugged with her tentacles. "Well, for the Squid Sisters, this does not surprise me."

"I guess, but it does mean that Three is at least capable of acting normal. Maybe it's just some kind of state of mind she reverts to - oh, choose your character here."

"Oh, which one should I pick?"

"Whichever one you like the look of. They pretty much play the same for the first couple of levels anyway."

"I see. Um, back to what you were saying before, why do you think Three reverts to that state of mind and does not simply stay like that all the time?"

"I dunno. Maybe it's how she deals with the job. She's been doing it longer than I have and...well, we both saw that Three isn't exactly bloodthirsty, even when she's seriously mad, she doesn't view life cheap." She doubted anyone who had been there that night and saw Three spare the single person who had offended her most, who had hurt her the deepest, would assume otherwise.

"That is true." Eight agreed, smiling. "I think it was the moment I truly fell in love with her."

"I still think you're crazy for falling for someone like her," Four said, nudging her again as the game began. "Never really saw her as girlfriend material, and you're not exactly having an easy time of it."

Eight grinned. "I surpassed many challenges in the metro for a nebulous goal of a 'promised land', which turned out to be a lie, even if I did eventually reach it. For the goal of having a partner in love as great as Three, I feel very motivated. I don't have to worry about getting splatted if I break the rules or fail either."

Four glanced sideways at her, barely paying attention to the screen. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about what Eight just said bothered her. Was it the actual content, the odd tone of voice behind it? It did sound perhaps a tiny bit forced.

"So… are you saying that Three being so difficult to crack is part of the fun?"

"Perhaps, or I simply know that I will appreciate her far more if the effort is greater."

Four shook her head. "You're too good for her, Eight. You deserve some rich hunk for a husband and someone of Callie and Marie's quality for a bondmate."

Eight laughed. "Be fortunate she is not actually my girlfriend at the moment, Four. I believe that, by your own customs, I would be required to defend Three's honor otherwise."

Four laughed back. "That's old stuff guys still like to spout to seem macho. Nothing usually happens - hey! Don't kill my character; we're on the same team!"

Eight shrugged unapologetically and Four couldn't help but grin in spite of it all.

"You're definitely too good for Three. I might try to steal you from her myself."

"I will keep that in mind. In the meantime, kindly help me with these monsters."

"Can't help you until I respawn. This is a video game. It doesn't necessarily happen as fast as it does in turf war. Good thing you like a challenge huh?"

Eight sighed, as her character succumbed to the mob of enemies on screen and a large FAIL flashed on-screen.

"Sometimes, to my cost."

Four laughed. "Well, we'll just have to make sure Three works out better. And, as long as you're aiming for her, you know I'll help."

Eight twirled the tip of one of her tentacles around her finger as the game reloaded. "Navigating and learning about Inkling customs is the real puzzle right now. If I push too hard or take things out of order I might end up pushing Three away."

Four tilted her head. "I don't think it's too complicated, but then, I guess I was raised with it. Maybe it actually is complicated and I never realized it." Her fingers started rapidly manipulating the controller as the game began again. "I honestly never thought about what other species might think of us. I just know the stereotypes they use."

"It is far more complicated than it is for Octarians, that is certainly true, but then, we do not have the concept of the White Lily either."

"Yeah, but Three is like a guy in a lot of ways, so maybe that's something in your favour."

Eight hummed. "Perhaps, but I would not know how to exploit that."

Four laughed. "I've never dated a guy so I wouldn't know either. Just know that I'll be here to help ya' if ya' need a hand."

Eight nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Tani."

"That's what besties are for. Now help _me _with these monsters."

—

"Come on in, Three. Glad you could come early."

Callie moved out of the way and Three came inside the Squid Sister's home. Callie's casual demeanor helped alleviate the anticipation she felt. Callie and Marie had often called on her to visit their house to discuss things. Usually it was related to agent work, something private, or Squid Sisters related. She hoped it was the latter. Callie had been sending her on recon deep into Octo Canyon to find a reasonably secure route to an Octarian prison, but the idea of a jailbreak deep in enemy territory made her nervous.

Marie was already seated at the kitchen table, which led Three to believe they would be discussing Squid Sisters business. Had it been something less serious, they would have sat in the living room.

The table was round so it didn't matter where she sat. She took a seat at Marie's left, greeting her with warm orange-yellow in her mantle which Marie returned, a gentle smile on her lips despite the seriousness in her eyes.

Callie sat down a moment later. "So, how is your iya, Three? She doing okay?"

"The usual symptoms. She's still not sleeping well and she's upset that her clothes aren't fitting right any more. She says it doesn't make sense since my mother didn't start outgrowing her clothes until she started showing."

Marie chuckled softly. "I bet she wishes she could just lay the eggs and let them grow on their own."

"I remember Daddy showing me pictures of what squid egg clutches used to look like," Callie said. "They look like underwater mops or something. I wonder when we started keeping them inside for most of their development."

"Most likely when we started living on land," Marie said. "We still generally lay our eggs in water. It might just be because our bodies became more complex." She waved her hand. "Anyway, we're glad to hear she's doing okay, Three, but that's not the reason we called you here."

Three pulsed green. _I know_.

Callie placed her hand on top of Marie's and the two cousins shared a look and Three's mind went all sorts of odd and even unpleasant places as she tried to guess what it was they were about to reveal or ask.

"Three," Callie said gently. "Marie and I are nineteen; we're going to be legally adults soon, and that means we're going to lose a lot of the protection society gives us."

"Like from official marriage proposals," Marie sighed. "And certain types of photos and articles paparazzi weren't allowed to publish before but will soon be able to."

Three felt a sick twisted knot in her gut. She held a special kind of hatred for people who invaded the personal lives of others for a quick buck. She got a certain sadistic satisfaction from being rough with them. But Callie and Marie were referring to the privacy laws that protected pre-adults. Without them, things were going to be much tougher and likely interfere with their duties as agents too.

She reached across the table and grasped both their hands. "What can I do?"

They smiled back at her, squeezing her hands in return, then Marie spoke.

"Cortina, we would like you to be our full time bodyguard."

Three suspected as much. Fully certified, she had already done it on occasion, and at sixteen, she could work a proper job now too.

Before Three could turn her mantle a bright accepting green, Marie and Callie both turned their mantles a solid red tone that said "hold."

"Before you accept," Marie continued. "You need to hear all of the conditions."

Three frowned. _Conditions?_

"To be our full time bodyguard, you will have to move out of your home and live here, with us."

Three felt her stomach drop and her mantle turned pale with splotches of dark red. "L-leave my family?"

"It would be too impractical to have you commute," Marie explained. "And we need someone here with us, someone who can always follow us around wherever we go if we need them to."

"Which we won't," Callie hastened to add. "At least, not most of the time. You'll have to come with us on tour or for international trips and the like, vacations, but you'll still be able to have a personal life." She gave her a wink and Three knew she meant Eight.

"You'll also get a pay raise," Marie said. "And you'll be able to eat Callie's cooking more often, which we know you love." She grinned and Three blushed. She really did love Callie's cooking and baking.

"Speaking of which, I made cookies!" Callie got up and ran to the kitchen, and when she came back, Three found herself staring down at a plate of a dozen shortbread cookies, her favourite.

She looked up at the two with a raised eyebrow, her mantle a suspicious yellow. "Are you bribing me?"

"Maybe a little," Callie replied with a shameless smile.

Three's mantle pulsed blue and Marie's mantle showed spots of dark purple: regret.

"Three," she said, her voice soft once more. "We need you. We trust you as much as we do each other, you already know most of our secrets already and we don't think we could bring anyone else in like we could you, and honestly, we're scared."

That was like a knife to the gut. Three could feel it twisting with every word Marie said, and her own chest felt tight. Something about that feeling Marie expressed felt uncomfortably familiar. Maybe it was similar to the way she felt about how her own life was due to change with the coming of her new siblings. Or perhaps it was similar to how she felt back when the weight of her duty as an agent had truly dawned on her, back when Callie and Marie had been little more than strangers.

Still staring down at the cookies, she replied, "I want to, I really do, it's just… my iya, two siblings on the way, and my dad working so much…"

"We know," Callie replied gently. "We know it feels like you're abandoning them but we didn't think it would be right if we didn't tell you exactly how we felt. We owe you nothing less than the total truth, Three."

"And I'm sure we could promise to let you be there for when the big day comes," Marie added. "And give you leave to babysit them from time to time."

"I-I know." Three assured them. "I know you wouldn't force me to leave them completely. It's just… a lot to think about."

"We know." Callie repeated. "The idea of moving out of home was pretty scary for us too, and we didn't have to worry about little brothers or sisters on the way. That's why we're telling you this now, so you have lots of time to think about it."

"And do take your time to really think about it," Marie said. "There's no rush. We want you to be comfortable with your decision. Whichever you choose, it won't change the way we see you."

"Maybe not," Three said. "But I bet it would change how I see myself."

Callie and Marie both frowned and looked at each other, then back at her.

"Three, is something wrong?" Callie asked.

Three shook her head. "I don't know. I think I'm just dealing with a lot of things at once."

"Want to talk about it?"

Three flashed red. "No, I can't even put it into words anyway. Maybe… maybe when I figure some more things out."

Callie pulsed grey, the tuk'yan equivalent of a shrug then gently pushed the plate of cookies closer. "Take a cookie. I promise it'll make you feel better."

Three managed a small smile and took one. She was right, it did help her feel a tiny bit better. If only everything in life could be solved by cookies.

**Author's Notes:**

**I'm sure a lot of us wish that some problems could be solved just by cookies. Not a lot of romance in this chapter, but now we are starting to be introduced to the conflicts that will be weighing on our characters. Growing up is tough. Fortunately, there are friends to help them out. Will it be enough? You'll have to stay tuned to see more.**


	3. So We've All Got Troubles

Three ran along the narrow platforms, hostile purple ink flying around her and trying to block her path. She had to spend precious ink to let herself keep moving. She was surrounded on all sides. She had been careless, again.

_If I get out of this, Callie and Marie will never let me hear the end of it._

One octoling jumped down in front of her, trying to take her down with a physical strike before she could react. Three ducked and rolled, just managing to avoid the strike, then spun around and emptied her tank onto the octoling, splatting her.

It had been the first of her opponents she had seen up close. Reddish tentacles, and no decorations or markings that she had been able to see in the brief glimpse before she evaporated, just the standard armour and goggles. It meant she wasn't dealing with elites. If she had, she would probably be dead now.

More appeared in front of her. She must have been close to getting away because they were making more desperate moves. Three had only been able to recover a small amount of ink though, so she would have to rely on hand to hand.

The two octolings in front of her opened fire. They were both carrying the standard octoshots and their aim was pretty good.

Three grunted as one shot hit her left shoulder but pressed forward at her best speed, keeping low and dodging as best she could, making herself a difficult target. Once she got close she attacked one of the octolings directly, knocking their weapon aside and striking the chin with a fist.

The octoling staggered, stunned, and Three pushed her towards the other octoling, using her as a shield. The other octoling didn't seem to care and simply opened fire. Of course, friendly ink wouldn't harm her comrade.

Three's "shield" cried out as her comrade's fired into her back, unable to hit Three. Three then ducked between her shield's legs and jumped up in front of the shooting octoling.

Three knocked her weapon out of her hands and went for the octoling's nose, but her blow was deflected and she only managed to graze her cheek.

The octoling struck back, managing a quick punch to Three's chest that her agent gear wasn't able to fully absorb. Her lungs reacted painfully but Three ignored it and managed to kick the octoling in the gut, hard. The octoling sailed backwards and landed unconscious on the ground.

Three whirled around, expecting her "shield" to have recovered and try to strike her from behind, but the girl was still lying on the ground. In fact, her goggles had partially come off, leaving a single familiar eye staring up at her.

"Eight?" She couldn't believe it. What was Eight doing in that uniform, fighting against her? Why hadn't she put up a better fight?

She looked back at the other octoling and her goggles were off completely, having flown off her face from the force of her kick. Those some familiar eyes stared up at the sky blankly.

It was Eight again. How?

Then she found herself surrounded again. All of the other octolings removed their goggles and revealed themselves as Eight. Were they clones? Sisters? What was going on. How was this possible?

"Why did you kill me?" They all asked. "I trusted you. Am I just the same as every other octoling to you? Is this how you see me?"

"No!" Three cried, turning around and around, the faces around her all staring blankly. They started to blur as they seemed to spin around her.

"I loved you, I trusted you. You betrayed me."

"No, I-I didn't mean to! Please! You were attacking me and-."

"I loved you! Are you not capable of loving someone else? You never trusted me, did you?"

"Of course I trusted you!" The faces were so blurry now that she couldn't tell one from another, and she started to feel sick.

"You've already killed me so many times. You don't deserve my love. You can only kill us, hurt us. Your mother hatched an ice-blooded murderer."

Something in Three snapped. Her mantle flared to a volcanic red and she lifted her hero shot, beak gritted tightly, her eyes were hard as diamonds.

"Don't you talk about my mother!"

"You're mother really was a shuunkri. Look at you. Had she been anything else she would have produced a better person."

"Shut up!" Three screamed and opened fire, spraying her hero shot full of ink at the blob of Eights in her vision. She kept shooting until her tank ran dry and the spinning stopped.

She panted heavily and looked around her. The remains of over a dozen Eight's lay around her. Three felt faint as the horror of what she had just done dawned on her. She had just killed Eight a dozen times over, without even thinking. What had she been doing?

She spotted a severed head looking up at her and smiling cruelly. "You see? You kill so easily. You say you trust me, that you don't hold me being an octoling against me, but look how easily you killed me. Admit it, you love killing me."

"No!"

Three sat up, panting heavily, and her funnel oozing thick, warm ink that soiled her bedsheets.

She looked rapidly, back and forth in the darkness of her bedroom, the only light being the streetlamps outside filtering through her curtains.

"Just a bad dream," Three mumbled, feeling embarrassed at herself for freaking out.

She groaned and rubbed her eyes. She was no stranger to nightmares, they had plagued her her whole life, particularly after her mother's death. After she became an agent, they became more prevalent until she became close to Callie and Marie and they chased the bad dreams away. Lullabies, hugging, cuddling, somehow they always managed to keep the night nasties at bay to the point where she rarely had them anymore. Ever since she had agreed to let Eight date her though, they had been coming back, and with a vengeance.

Three rubbed her hands over her face and looked at the glowing red digits on her alarm clock. They read 03:00. Seeing the numbers made Three groan and wonder if she would get any more sleep. She certainly wouldn't with soiled sheets.

Grunting, Three tossed her old covers aside and stood up, taking a moment to rub her beary eyes again then removed her sheets. She carried them downstairs and dumped them in the laundry hamper then retrieved fresh linen from the closet. All the while, she thought about that dream.

It seemed ridiculous. She should have known it was a dream when multiple Eights appeared. And why would Eight be attacking her in the first place? Eight would never go back to her old life. It made no sense.

_But I still killed her so easily._ She thought. Her mother had always been a sore point, but surely she wouldn't have lost her cool so easily outside of the dream. She had managed to keep it together during the car incident.

As Three remade her bed, she thought about the dream Eight's accusations.

Murderer, killer, lyer, betrayer. '_You love killing me.'_

Three didn't, she didn't love killing at all. The guilt had kept her up more nights than she cared to remember, and then she would often have to get up and kill some more the next day. It didn't do much good for her disposition and Callie and Marie had often needed to soothe her, either after a mission or before she went to sleep.

She didn't like killing, it still bothered her, but she had gotten used to it. That was her only explanation. She hadn't become numb to it, but she had gotten used to it. Captain Cuttlefish had told her once, very somberly, that it was normal. You got used to killing after you had enough practice, but the guilt could still come back to haunt you and he warned her to be careful of that. The nightmares the guilt had generated had proven his words true.

Captain Cuttlefish had really become a grandfather to her, Callie and Marie had become sisters and Four, her little sister. They had become a second family, true family, _anu eelae_.

'_Are you capable of loving someone else?'_ The dream Eight's voice echoed in her head.

Of course she could. She loved her iya and dad dearly. She loved Callie and Marie with all her heart and soul. Four was the little sister she never had growing up and loved her as such.

'_You never trusted me, did you?'_

That baleful accusation from the dream Eight gnawed at her. She did trust Eight, with her life; although, she honestly didn't know her that well. But it was hard to know someone who was in the process of discovering themselves through the new possibilities presented by Inkopolis.

Still, there was always that nagging doubt whenever she was with Eight, an uncertainty she couldn't quite identify. Almost every time she was with Eight, particularly alone, her guard would go up. Was it really just because Eight was an octoling?

_Every octarian wants me dead, even the ones here, even the ones that I didn't fight, they wish I was dead. Every octarian would kill me if they had a good chance to do it._

That was just how it was, that was just how terrified and frightened of her that octarians had become.

'_The moment you let your guard down is the moment you die.'_ The words of her master, the one who had taught her physical combat and many things beyond.

As Three slid back into bed, she wondered if she could let her guard down around Eight.

_But she could have killed me plenty of times and she didn't, _Three thought. _She trusts me and I trust her, so why do I still have this uneasy feeling around her? Maybe it's just stress?_

She didn't know, and as even as she stared up at the darkness of her bedroom ceiling, no other answers that seemed as reasonable came to her, and as sleep finally claimed her again she thought, _Eight is my friend. I trust her… I trust her..._

Eight held her breath as she carefully brought the razorblade down. It was her first time doing this and she didn't want to mess it up.

The razorblade finally touched the surface and she carefully pushed it forward. It cut underneath the softness and started to peel it away. To Eight's relief, she wasn't leaving any obvious scratches.

She finally released her breath and felt some confidence return, continuing to scrape off the material and trying to guess its makeup.

It wasn't rubber. Cork perhaps? It did seem to crumble a little bit as she scraped it off the iron surface it was stuck to. Hard to believe that it could withstand such heat and pressure. Perhaps inklings were more ingenious than even they believed.

"It is coming off quite easily here." She looked over to her right where Three sat. Between them was the cast iron engine block of Three's mother's car. The engine had been stripped down to its individual parts and the two of them were currently scraping the remains of the head gaskets off the engine block with small razor blades.

Three's only response was a flash of green from her mantle, something Eight had learned to read as either "yes" or simply an acknowledgement. Pearl tended to rely more on her mouth to communicate than most inklings, something which Four enjoyed making jokes about at the former's expense. Three was the opposite, relying more on Tuk'yan, and Eight couldn't help but feel like her inability to read and understand it was an annoyance to her, because it forced her to speak in order to effectively communicate.

But Eight hadn't exactly been a chatterbox throughout her life either. Where her peers would huddle together, chatting about anything that came to mind, gossiping, Eight would often be by herself, head on the surface - or in the clouds as they said in Inkopolis, and dreaming of far off places and how life might be different.

_Now I'm wondering how this relationship might be different._

Despite how she used to be, being around Pearl and Four often enough tended to loosen one's lips over time, and asking constant questions about the surface world had also made it easier for her to start a conversation.

"Do you know what you are going to go when you finish fixing the car?" She asked. "Will you race it?"

Three flashed red. "I'll never race this. This is Mama's car, and I don't want to risk it getting smashed."

"Then, no touge runs?"

Three hesitated for a moment. "Maybe." And that was the end of the conversation.

Eight withheld a sigh. It was always like this. She would try to start a conversation, it would go back and forth a few times and then Three would end it there. It certainly didn't feel like the kind of interaction two friends would have, not unless one of them was in a bad mood.

_And she never asks about me. I know I'm the one who confessed and I know she wasn't able to give me a proper answer but am I not worth asking about? Not worth talking to?_

Still, at least she was getting to know Three a little better. In addition to little tidbits from their brief conversations, Three had some interesting physical habits.

Her face tended to get smudged by her dirty hands because the intense focus of her work made parts of her face itch, and the little pouts she made when she got just a little frustrated made Eight giggle on the inside.

"How are you girls making out?"

Eight and Three both looked up. Rex, a blue inkyar in his forties, made his way around the shell of the car to the back of their little garage space, careful not to step on any of the components strewn about the floor.

"Oh, we are not doing that," Eight said, heat rising to her face. "We are working and I cannot imagine this would be a great place to do that, and our faces are filthy."

Rex stopped and stared at her, eyebrows raised and then he laughed. "I don't know if what you said was funnier or the fact you said it with total seriousness."

Eight frowned, confused by his reaction. She glanced sideways and saw Three looking away from her, mantle light blue with little blotches of pink.

_Smod, I messed up._

"We're just cleaning the old head gaskets off," Three answered hastily.

Rex knelt down beside Three and examined her work. Meanwhile Eight ran through her Inklish lexicon again to figure out what went wrong.

Everytime she thought "making out" she imagined people kissing, just as she had seen on TV. Stupid idioms. She decided to break it down.

_Making… creating, building, manufacturing, crafting, constructing… Creating out? No, that doesn't make any sense. Building out? That does make sense, I suppose. Building outwards? Building upon? Building away? Building further? How are we building further? Was he referring to our relationship or-._

Eight smacked herself in the head. Rex hadn't been talking about her and Three kissing; he was asking how the work on the engine was going. No wonder Three had been annoyed.

Eight hung her head in shame. Another blunder.

_I really would like to kiss her though._

"And how are you doing?'

Eight jerked as she noticed Rex kneeling down to inspect her work.

He hummed and ran his hands over parts of the engine block that she had scraped. "You don't want to leave any residue on there. It has to seal nice and tight. You can scour it later but you still have to get most of it off."

Eight wet her lips. "Yes, I understand. Um… I did not mean to cause any misunderstandings. I am very sorry.

He chuckled and ruffled her tentacles affectionately. "Don't worry. You're a nice girl and you're doing a good job. Lil' Corti wouldn't let you work on it if she didn't trust you to do good work, and you two are doing really good for amateurs."

Eight saw Three's face tighten as her cheeks warmed. No, they were already blue.

"Uncle, don't call me that."

He laughed. "Awww, you used to let me call you that all the time. You even liked it. Besides, not like you can actually stop me." He patted her head and Eight clenched her jaw, waiting for Three to tear his hand from his arm. She did not; she only pouted, her mantle turning the colour of red clay. So, Rex left with his hand but Eight couldn't help but feel her own situation had not improved.

It always felt like this. Anytime she thought she understood Inkling language, culture, and protocol well enough, something like this would happen and she would be back to walking on glass.

_Why does this have to be so hard? Why don't they have an ordered list of all the rules and procedures to follow in order to initiate courtship?_

She had looked, of course; online and in bookstores, but while she was able to find some general advice, there was no clearly defined sequence for her to follow, and Three's lack of communication added to the problem.

Three returned to scraping and Eight did the same. For a good twenty minutes there were no words between them. Other than the sounds from the shop and street outside, the only sounds in the little garage was the scraping of metal on metal as they worked their way through the job.

Eight felt like she was on a grind rail over a pit of spikes. She had erred, and she wasn't sure how to fix the situation. She would have to tread carefully.

The silence stretched on and on and Eight felt her nerves start to fray. Three rarely, if ever, started a conversation so the silence would stretch on almost indefinitely if it were left up to her. But after her offense, Eight didn't feel confident initiating one either and she doubted Three was in the mood to talk.

'_If you can't talk, then act._ That had been Pearl's advice about what to do in these situations, but what actions could she take? Eight looked around for ideas and her eyes found the thermos resting near the door but it was already empty after their break earlier. That gave Eight an idea.

She stood up and wiped her hands on one of the shop towels. "I will be right back." And then promptly left the garage. She returned with two drinks from the vending machine inside the reception room of Rex's shop.

"I am back." She announced. "I got us some drinks. It has been a while since the thermos ran out." She handed Three a drink of the type she had seen her get several times when they went out turfing together. Three eyed the offered drink and Eight saw her mantle shift beneath the surface, changing texture rather than colour.

Eight felt herself relax when Three accepted the drink and popped it open.

"Thanks," she said.

"You are welcome." Eight smiled, feeling lighter and able to breathe again. She silently thanked Pearl for her advice then sat next to Three, opening her drink as well.

Again, they didn't say anything, but this time the silence wasn't awkward; it was simply contented.

_But I need to do better._ Eight told herself. _Three is giving me the chance to court her but if I mess up too badly she might reject me. I can't make any major mistakes like that again. To do that, I have to figure out ways to know Three better._.

Three downed the rest of her drink and then put the can down. She fished inside her pocket and pulled out a small pouch. Eight could hear the soft clinking of coins within.

"Oh, you do not need to pay me back," Eight insisted. "It was a gift."

"I don't want gifts," Three said, then she bit her lip and averted her eyes for a second while her mantle flickered white. "What I mean is, I don't deserve it. Not before I'm really your girlfriend."

Eight was surprised. "You… you actually want to be my girlfriend?"

Three turned her head away, her fingers now gripping her coin pouch tightly. "Is-isn't that what we're trying to find out?"

Eight paused and thought back to the conversation they had those weeks ago when she confessed her feelings for the inkling.

"I suppose, but can friends not buy gifts for each other as well?"

She heard Three grunt in a way that didn't suit her natural voice at all, but as Three put the money away, Eight smiled winningly.

"Don't they hate the idea?" Three asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Eight blinked in surprise at Three finally asking her a question.

"The other octolings. Don't they hate you for even trying to date me?"

Eight paused, thinking about the other octolings she actually interacted with. Mostly it was just her former kidnappers and the handful of others that had since joined the group.

"I don't think they really understand that I… am endeavouring to court you. I doubt it will be an issue however, particularly with those who have pledged themselves to you."

Three shifted uncomfortably. Eight knew she wasn't really comfortable with the idea of having a number of people indebted to her in such a way.

"Somehow, I don't think so." She said softly, and then returned to her work.

Eight was a bit disappointed to have the conversation end there but she could tell that it had been heading down a dark road so perhaps it was best. But she could tell that something was bothering Three and wondered what it was.

As Eight returned to her own side of the engine block, her mind wandered, thinking, figuring. She had bested every challenge and task in the Metro, and yet, none of them came even close to the daunting puzzle that was Agent 3.

_But I'll break through one day._ She silently vowed. _I'll pass this test and then we can have a relationship._ Just like the loving, saccharine romances she had seen on TV.

She wanted that, she wanted it so badly, and yet, the road to achieving that seemed more vague and undefined every day; more the notion of a path than an actual route. But Eight wouldn't give up. She couldn't give up, she just couldn't. Her soul would not let her.

For Marie Sansea, sleep was something she enjoyed yet often neglected. The life of a night owl who lived the double life of a secret agent and pop culture sensation often meant odd hours and many of them without sleep. Therefore, the few hours of sleep that were of her choosing were precious indeed. Having that precious time disturbed for some reason or another was enough to foul her mood in an instant. In this case, not only did she have to deal with her precious sleep being disturbed, but it was aggravated by another bodily need.

Marie's stomach cared little for her schedule, it's primary function was its sole concern. It growled and rumbled iritably, stirring the young Inkyora awake. Once Marie's mind had been drawn from its brief hibernation and Marie regained full consciousness, she seemed to have forgotten what it was that woke her, annoyed that she had woken sooner than she felt comfortable. She turned onto her other side, and tried to fall back asleep. Her stomach however would not be ignored and it grumbled again. It was her fault it was empty.

Marie hissed, opening heavy eyelids to peer at the glowing green digits on her alarm clock next to the bed.

"Two-thirty in the morning?" She had been asleep for less than three hours and she had to be up in less than four. She had often found it difficult to get back to sleep after waking up in the middle of the night so her prospects of even a decent night's sleep seemed extremely poor. If she was lucky, she might get another two hours of sleep.

Her stomach made yet more sounds of discontent and she angrily tossed off her covers. "Stupid second puberty," she grumbled. Being the bigger, stronger sex had its disadvantages. Males only had to go through it once and much more gradually.

The full moon cast silvery beams through her window. With the superior vision that came with her cross-pupiled eyes, it made the room feel almost like day. Her robe of platinum silk, dangling from the hook on the door of her walk-in closet, seemed to glow in the pale light.

Marie rolled out of bed and took a moment to rub her bleary eyes before standing and retrieving her robe. Her tentacles lifted themselves out of the way as she wrapped it around herself. It was a bit too chilly to be walking around just in her light camisole and pyjama shorts. They were, however, among the few night clothes that still fit her these days.

Marie stepped out into the hallway where the moon's light did not reach. This was not a problem for her, however, as her mantle glowed lime. She didn't need it to be particularly bright to see where she was going, despite the lack of light.

Just ahead and to the left was Callie's room. The door was shut so Marie stopped briefly to press her head to the door, listening for any sounds of distress. Callie had come a long way since her captivity but she still suffered occasional nightmares. Hearing no sounds from inside, she continued on.

She passed the master bedroom on her left, which had been converted into a studio. The corridor then cornered right, with the main bathroom on the right and two guest rooms on the left. But when she turned the corner she saw a glow at the end of the hall. The lights in the kitchen were on. It had to be Callie getting her own nighttime snack. A habit of hers even before they hit second puberty.

Marie turned off her bioluminescence and made her way through the living room to the kitchen.

Clad in a black nightie far too alluring for someone not expecting company in bed, Callie sat at the table hunched over her tablet. The single light directly above glowing harshly to Marie's dark accustomed eyes. Even the glow of the tablet's screen seemed almost blinding before her eyes adjusted.

Marie expected to see the remains of a demolished meal on the table, but she saw only the tablet. There weren't even any signs that there had been a meal. No crumbs, dirty plates, or even the smell of food. Instead, Callie scrolled lazily up and down on her tablet, her brows knitted, and the underlying colour of her dark mantle moved and shifted. She hadn't even noticed she was no longer alone.

Marie moved up behind her and still she didn't notice. Marie used that time to peer over Callie's shoulder and read what was on the screen.

It was a series of numbers and dates arranged in a table like a calendar. Each cell of the table also had notations in small type. Callie scrolled down, revealing an image that was all too familiar to Marie. It was the layout of a large compound, drawn by hand and then scanned electronically. The large rectangle marked "Cell Block A" had the most notations on it, and it was there that Callie's eyes were fixed.

"So that's what's on your mind."

Callie jumped, the back of her head nearly colliding with Marie's chin. She turned around and Marie instinctively moved back to avoid the whip of Callie's long tentacles.

"Marie, don't sneak up on me like that!"

Marie couldn't help but smirk. After all, sneaking up on Callie was one of her guilty pleasures. Besides, it wasn't as if Callie didn't have her ways of annoying her too.

"I wasn't sneaking, you were just absorbed. I wasn't even trying to sneak up on you." She regarded Callie with disapproval. "Did you even go to bed?"

Callie made that face she did when getting caught. "I… didn't feel like sleeping."

Marie crossed her arms. "Callie, I know the information we got today has you worked up but you need sleep. You can't plan an op properly without getting your mind the rest it needs. Three and Four have a joint op tomorrow anyway so we have plenty of time to plan something."

Sighing, Marie forced herself to calm down. It was late and Callie was still sensitive about some things. And, honestly, most of her irritation was due to her gnawing stomach. Callie was just unfortunate enough to be there.

"Sorry, it's just…"

Callie gave her a small smile and grasped her hand. "I know you're worried. I am too. I just want this whole thing to be over and done with."

Marie smirked. "The rescue operation or second puberty?"

Callie chuckled. "Both, I guess." She tugged at her nightie. "I'm glad mom got me this a few sizes too big, but I still don't think it'll be enough."

"It is rather annoying that we have to get whole new wardrobes, but I suppose it can't be helped."

Marie went over to the kettle and filled it with water to boil. Tea always helped relax her and with how little sleep she was going to have she needed all the relaxation she could get. She glanced over at Callie who looked briefly at the tablet once again before turning it off and putting it back in its protective sleeve.

"Maybe we can give Three and Four some of our old stuff as hand-me-downs. It's still fashionable stuff so I don't think they'd mind."

Marie grimaced. "I don't know. Last time Four got clothes from me it didn't work out so well."

Callie tisked. "Marie, that wasn't your fault. It was a problem that already existed. She still got to be the belle of the ball, dance with tons of boys, be the princess. That's not the sort of experience girls like her tend to have. Besides, there's no way you could have known."

Marie turned away, hiding the action by making it look like she was sifting through the cupboards to try and find something to eat.

"I haven't been around much for her lately, have I? She went through all that and I didn't do anything. I didn't even try to talk to her about it since she told us what happened, and the whole time, she seemed more afraid of offending me." Her mantle pulsed blue. "And then Eight got kidnapped and I let myself get caught up in the fallout.

She heard Callie's chair scoot against the floor, meaning Callie had gotten up, then she heard her soft footsteps drawing closer.

Marie turned just as Callie wrapped her in a warm hug and nuzzled the crook of her neck.

"You don't have to be perfect, Marie. Even Four doesn't expect that. She looks up to you and you've never let her down. Stop being so pessimistic. Right now, positivity is what we need."

Marie smiled and hugged Callie back. "Maybe I've just gotten too reliant on you. You've always been the positive one."

Callie laughed. "You did fine without me, so you know you can handle things by yourself if things go belly-up."

"But I'd rather not."

Callie pulled away but kept hold of Marie's biceps. They looked into each other's eyes, and then Callie's flashed with understanding.

"You're talking about Three."

Marie's mantle pulsed grey and blue. "I guess. With as high profile as our lives are and with us losing the protection we have as teens, I feel like if we don't keep the family together, it could be torn apart. Plus, Three's at the age where she needs to start thinking about a career, and she won't be able to do her job as an agent if she's totally occupied doing that."

Callie gave her a huge grin, causing Marie to frown. "What?"

"Well, listen to you. Thinking about our family and keeping us all together. Normally you pretend none of that stuff bothers you or that it's not as big a deal as you really think it is."

Marie's mantle turned maroon and she pouted. "I care. I've always cared."

"I know, but usually you hide it behind snark, salt, and aloofness."

Callie silenced her comeback by pressing a finger to Marie's lips. She smiled sweetly, eyes like warm, golden pools.

"Don't worry; I think it's a good thing. Besides, we really do need Three to be our bodyguard. There's basically nobody else." Callie withdrew her finger and Marie relaxed. "You think she'll accept?"

"I really hope so." Marie whispered. "It would be a load off my mind."

Callie giggled. "Well, I don't know about you, but what's on my mind is food. I'm starving."

Marie laughed. "Figures. If I'm craving a snack, you're craving a banquet."

Callie made an overdramatic expression of offense. "Marie, I am no glutton. I am merely a consumer of greater passion."

Marie's mantle flashed burgundy with spots of bright-yellow, but she smiled. "Whatever you say. But if this keeps up we're going to have to hire somebody just to do grocery shopping."

"They have services for that sort of thing nowadays. If Three really is going to move in here, we'll be running out that much faster, especially when she hits second puberty in a few years."

Marie shuddered. "That's a scary thought. She hasn't even started her cycles yet. We might also have to have a certain talk with her regarding rules about -" she cleared her throat "-bringing company home."

From the stove, Callie looked at her over her shoulder with an amused smile. "Surely you don't have an issue with Eight coming here."

"Not Eight, no, but somebody else, yes."

Callie snorted. "Three? I don't think so. She won't be getting a boyfriend anytime soon and she's almost as much a papa's princess as you."

Marie ignored the comment. It was a jab as old as she was. "It's going to happen eventually, even if Eight does count as both. And we have to figure out how Three is supposed to conduct herself whenever you bring someone."

Callie flashed burgundy and brought her gaze back to the stove. "Because, of course, you would never do such a thing."

"I'm still way too young to marry, so what's the rush? I've had boyfriends before."

"Briefly."

"I'm just not that interested, Callie. I can afford to take my time a little."

"Whatever."

Marie pursed her lips and then walked up behind Callie and hugged her from behind. "Besides, right now, I have all the love I need."

Callie sighed. "Sounds like a line Daddy would use." She giggled anyway and they pressed their cheeks against each other.

"Let's just worry about getting things sorted first. Once that's done, then _maybe_ I'll think about a social life."

Callie grinned. "By the time you do, it might be Three giving you advice."

"And what about you?"

Callie flashed grey. "I guess I'd like to wait for things to settle down first too. Just promise me that you'll at least try to start dating again."

Brown spots appeared in Marie's mantle. "Fine, I promise."

"Good. Now help me out here or we'll be up all night."

**Author's Notes:**

This is a long one and there's a lot going on, but I hope by now you've all gotten a good idea of what the situation is in this story and the basic struggles within, along with just a hint of mystery and plot to make you wonder what it is I'm really up to, heh heh.


	4. Why are we here?

Three held her breath steady as she peered through the charger's scope at the two octolings standing amidst some small rubble piles. They were too far away for her to shoot and they weren't much of a threat. Most likely perimeter guards or scouts. Novices too judging from how lax they were. Today was going to be another slow day.

"What are they doing?"

Three withdrew from the scope and looked to her left where Four sat with her hero shot across her lap, staring in the opposite direction of Three's charger, guarding their six o'clock.

Three flashed yellow. _What?_

"I said, 'what are they doing?'"

Three's mantle turned burgundy. "Exactly the same thing they were doing when you asked me five minutes ago. They're still just standing there and they're still just talking."

Four groaned audibly. "I'm bored."

"You need to learn patience," Three chided. She put down her charger and retrieved a pair of binoculars from a pouch at her hip, using them to scan the area.

They were in a spot between Inkopolis and the Octo Valley domes. The Octarians sometimes staged raids to pillage garbage dumps and scrap yards for supplies or materials, grabbing whatever they could carry. Most of it was worthless to Inkopolis but Captain Cuttlefish said that it was unwise to encourage the activity and they all knew full well what they would be using such materials for. Thus, regular patrols had to be done to try and minimize the effectiveness of their efforts.

"I _am_ trying to learn patience," Four grumbled. "That's why Marie stuck me here with you, but we've been here for…"

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes and nothing's happened. Can't we move to another spot or something? They could be a distraction."

"Captain Cuttlefish is watching the other entrances. This is the only route he can't properly watch from the cabin." A crimson wave of deeper aggravation washed across her mantle. "What did you do on patrols when you were on your own?"

"I actually patrolled. I didn't just sit in one spot; I moved."

"If you're out here to learn patience, then we're not moving unless we have to."

Four's mantle turned maroon in dissatisfaction and rippled with frustration. Not that Three didn't understand. Honestly, she would prefer to keep moving too. It would help distract her from all the thoughts plaguing her.

"I heard things went pretty well with Eight the other day."

Three pulled back from her binoculars and looked at her, her mantle showing yellow spots in question.

Four grinned like an eel with a secret. "She said you complimented her. That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard you do. Wow, making real progress eh?"

Three's eyes narrowed into a glare. "Are you mocking me?"

"Just a little." Four chuckled. "From how she's been describing your relationship so far, it sounds like you two can't even hold a conversation. Is it really that hard for you two to just sit down and talk? If it was Eight here instead of me, I don't think either of you would say a word the whole time."

Three grimaced and then the mention of Eight made her remember the two octoling scouts. She looked back through her binoculars in their direction. _Still just talking, still just standing there._

"And what of it? Neither of us are particularly talkative."

Four snorted. "You've talked to me more in the last ten minutes than you've talked to Eight since we got back from vacation last week."

Three gritted her beak behind her lips, fighting down the urge to tell her junior to shut up and focus on her job, but she couldn't do that, it would just make it seem like she was dodging the issue. She really didn't need this right now, but it was something of a distraction from certain other issues she had on her mind.

_And if I'm earnest in wanting to give Eight a fair chance, I can't be closed off to criticism, can I?_

"Is Eight upset?" Three asked, perhaps more tersely than she intended. "She - I'm not good at telling what she's thinking."

"There I don't blame ya. I'm her bestie though, so she tells me things. I've gotten better at reading her too. Actually, come to think of it, she was unusually chatty the last time we talked. Maybe it was because she was having fun or something'"

Three felt a twisting fist in her gut and had the sensation of sinking. "S-so, you're closer to her than I am, is what you're really saying."

She watched Four carefully, saw the frown followed by the widening of her eyes and her mantle turning blue with regret.

"No I… well… I guess I am, but I didn't mean it that way. I just…"

"It's fine." Three replied, feeling suddenly very humbled. "It isn't your fault. You're just trying to be a good friend."

She blinked her eyes rapidly and then looked back through the binoculars. _Still just standing there. Still just talking. How can two people talk so much? What do they talk about that they keep each other so interested?_ If she could just get over those awkward moments that permeated almost every conversation between her and Eight, it would go a long way to improving their relationship. _I never thought I'd want to be more like Four._

"You know," Four said. "Eight does act different around me than she does you."

Three looked at her, eyebrow arched. "That makes sense if you two are closer."

Four's mantle pulsed red. "I mean, she always kinda did. I don't know how to explain it but she's pretty chill around me. Normal, just friends hanging out, but with you it's like… like she's tiptoeing. You know what I mean?"

Three frowned, trying to process the idiom in context. "She's afraid of something about me?"

"Nah, I don't think it's you. Maybe it's some Octarian thing we don't know about. Like, maybe something that makes her nervous about dating or romance? I mean, besides the fact that it was 'strongly discouraged.'"

"Some kind of propaganda?"

"Maybe. I think you actually know more about that side of her than I do. You actually saw the Octarians before any of them were freed. You've seen some of what Eight grew up with."

Three shrugged and looked back through her binoculars. _Still just standing and talking._ Except they were standing closer together now and their body language had changed. Curious...

"I don't know much about that part of their society," Three admitted. "And most of the propaganda I've seen had more to do with hating us and them being the superior species. Even so, I don't think that's what's stopping her. It's more likely something about the surface world. She's still not used to how things work here and romance doesn't exactly have a cut and dry manual."

"Huh, I never thought of that. I guess Marie did say something about Octolings being people used to following instructions."

"Rules," Three amended, meeting Four's eyes. "If you read their instructions it's more a list of rules where if you read Inkling instructions they're more like guidelines. At least, that's what Eight said once when she was helping me with Mama's car."

"Rules huh?" Four flicked one of her short tentacles thoughtfully. "So… she thinks there's some rule to follow or maybe she's following a rule that doesn't actually exist?"

"I don't know," Three admitted. "I don't think she would tell me either."

Four laughed. "Hah, no kidding. You two barely talk as it is and…" her voice trailed off and she had a stunned look on her face as her mantle turned a slightly lighter shade of orange from normal.

"What?" Three asked, frowning.

"We've just been talking."

Three stared at her, and then she realized, they really had been talking. They had been talking a lot. What's more, it was about Eight, about her own love life. Three hadn't been embarrassed, there was no awkward silence, that strange twisting, gnawing feeling hadn't shown up until right now, upon the moment of revelation, as if it had been caught off guard. No, Three herself had been caught off guard.

It had happened so naturally, going from trying to distract herself from thinking even more unpleasant thoughts than the failures in her somewhat existent love life to earnestly talking to Four about something with a level of openness and honesty she normally associated with talking to Callie and Marie.

Three sat down from her crouched position, feeling genuinely bewildered and a strong need to assess herself, as if for injuries.

She heard Four giggling. "So you got cracks in her shell after all, eh, Agent 3?"

Three glared at her, her mantle a solid scarlet. "Don't think you know me."

Four rolled her eyes. "Come on, don't start that now. We were making progress, having a good time. Why can't you do that with Eight?"

"I…" Three's brows furrowed deeper and she found herself looking down at her hands. "I don't know. I don't even know why I talked to you."

"That makes two of us." Four smiled and came over to her, nuzzling against her warmly. "But I'm glad you finally did."

Three said nothing for a moment, her mind and soul a maelstrom of confusion and mixed emotions. Despite that, she felt like a small burden had been lifted like it was just a tiny bit easier to breathe now than it had been before.

_I haven't even been able to talk to Callie and Marie about this. Why was I suddenly able to talk about it to Four?_ She didn't know, and yet…

"Y-yeah," she whispered. "I'm glad I did too. I think."

"Then you'll open up more often? We can talk like actual friends now?"

Three grimaced and then bit her bottom lip. "I'll… I promise I'll try."

"Good enough. And I promise I'll try to figure out what might be holding Eight back. She's my bestie and you're my sister, so I want your relationship to work out if it can, okay?"

Three flashed green, although, a part of her loathed to admit she needed the help. She shouldn't though. Although Four was two years younger, she was still an agent and someone Three had come to accept as a close comrade, a friend, and as family. Someone she trusted with her life.

_Maybe it's myself I don't understand. I have all these strange feelings I can't identify about Eight. Maybe if I figure myself out first I can figure out what to do about Eight, and maybe even the issue with being Callie and Marie's bodyguard._

It was only a theory. She wasn't terribly good at philosophy, but for the first time, she felt like she had some direction- a path she could follow to achieving her goals. Even if it didn't go in exactly the right direction, it was still a path that lead somewhere.

"Thank you," was all Three could think to say. Maybe that was all that needed to be said here.

"You can thank me by loosening up more often." Four settled back down into her previous spot, leaning her back against the old brick wall. "You're way more fun when you do. I bet Eight will think so too."

"I'll… keep that in mind."

Three peered through the binoculars again and-. Her mantle shifted to bright almost blinding orange with bright pink spots, her mouth agape. Four moved swiftly into a crouch, her hero shot in hand. Before she could ask what was going on, Three pulled back from the binoculars and stared at her.

"They're kissing."

Four's eyes went huge and her mouth fell open. "Seriously?" Three offered her the binoculars and Four hurriedly took them, looking in the direction she had been.

"Helix," she breathed. "They're really going at it."

"Yeah." Three picked up her charger and began watching through the scope. "Kind of an odd place to do that, don't you think?"

"Maybe they're into that." They looked at each other and Four smirked. "Well, at least you know what it looks like to snog an octoling. Now you just have to experience it for yourself."

Three's eyes narrowed into a glare. "Mind yourself." She looked back at the passionate octoling couple through her scope and then muttered. "You would be of a Helix congregation."

"Yeah, so what?" Four asked defensively.

Three looked back at her, frowning. "Did I say something wrong? I only said it because I thought it suited you."

Four bit her bottom lip and looked away. "It's… it's nothing, really."

"Three hummed. "Want to talk about it?"

Four stared at her for a long moment, saying nothing, then her cheeks flushed and she burst out laughing. Barely a second later, Three joined her, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

**Author's Notes:**

**This is one of my favourite chapters in the whole story. It's was just so much fun to write these two chatting and bickering but also subtly expressing their love for each other as sisters, family they have chosen.**

**Some of you with keen memories might recognize the RvB references here. I just couldn't resist, I suppose, and it created a great lead-in to Three and Four's interaction.**


	5. Inhibition

Eight's chest was tight, her breath was short and her throat felt dry. She lay on the ground, clad in only her undergarments, staring up at the most beautiful physical form she had ever seen.

Three stood above her, clad in the same sports top and shorts she did when they sparred. Her hips were cocked, a hand placed on the high side. She looked down at her with half-lidded eyes and a sultry smile that made Eight's hearts race and elicited strange unfamiliar sensations through her body.

Eight swallowed and her body tensed as Three lowered herself, straddling her body with strong, thick legs and her chest, larger than her own, bounced centimeters from the tip of her nose.

Eight uttered a groan as she felt the heat radiating from them then grunted as Three sat on her lower torso. She was taller than her by about a third and massed probably twice as much. So large, so powerful, so beautiful. Surely no one would blame her for falling in love with Three, or for having these strange urges she didn't understand.

"You're so beautiful," Eight gasped as she met Three's deep crimson orbs. Her green tentacles dangled on either side of her head, as if creating a path for their heads to follow.

"You're not so bad yourself," Three whispered back at her, her voice like sweet honey spice to Eight's ears.

She was leaning down, closer and closer. Eight's hearts quickened still further, eyes widening and breath becoming short as she realized what was coming.

_Yes, yes, yes._ Eight wanted this so badly, had prayed for it. Just one, please let her have just this one.

Eight closed her eyes and puckered her lips, feeling Three's weight shifted forward and she bent down. She felt the inkling's nutrirae press against her chest like warm pillows and the heat of lover's face scant centimeters from her own.

_Yes, yes, yes!_

Eight suddenly coughed and then the world became a blur. She felt the sensation of being rapidly accelerated and then decelerated. She opened her eyes and saw… nothing, nothing except for the ceiling of her bedroom, coloured slightly blue by the dim of dawn's twilight. Another dream, yet another dream.

Eight let out a pitiful whine and smacked her mattress dejectedly. This was not the first time she had this sort of dream. They had started shortly after she began her tentative courtship with Three. Each time it was slightly different and lately Three had been growing progressively curvier and more voluptuous.

Eight tossed her covers off, letting the cooler air of her bedroom help jar her awake. She sat up in bed and there was a gross, wet tearing sound as her back peeled off the bed sheets. Her stomach dropped, knowing what the cause was.

She peeked through cracked eyelids and found the area of her mattress she'd been lying on stained with her cerise ink. She had gotten so worked up she had leaked ink… again.

Eight was too used to this by now to be embarrassed anymore. Ink usually dissolved on its own but the sheets would still have to be washed. She lazily swung her legs out over the side and placed her feet on the floor, rubbing her eyes to try and coax the sleep out of them.

Blinking she found herself looking at the DVD case next to her television: _My Girlfriend Keeps Growing Curvier_. It was the first animated romance Eight had ever seen.

Looking for good romantic media to help educate her about inkling courtships and romance in general, she had happened upon it. Although the idea of a good romance made entirely of drawn pictures seemed hard to imagine, the reviews recommended it highly and she purchased it on that basis and the desire to see something different. After watching three episodes in one night, she was hooked and quickly ordered the second season.

The story was from the perspective of an inkling boy who took a scrawny inkling girl as his girlfriend, mostly out of pity. However, for some unexplained reason, the girl rapidly began to grow more and more healthy and curvaceous as she became more confident. The main plot of each episode had to due with the trials and tribulations in their lives that this condition caused.

It was no doubt the reason her fantasy Three had been getting so much more curvaceous of late. Inkling girls were typically fairly slim, even upon reaching maturity, but octolings, by the simple fact that a healthy octoling female would lay more eggs than a typically inkling one, often had a more curvaceous body. Thus, as an octoling herself, Eight was inclined to see those more curvaceous qualities as desirable. That was her justification, at least.

Eight didn't understand why her fantasies had taken such a direction however. She found Three to already be quite physically attractive. And yet, a part of her couldn't help but desire Three to look more like the girl from the show.

"Why am I like this?" She groaned into her hands. "I fell in love with Three the way she was. Why would I want her to be different at all?" Maybe it had to do with the fact that she watched it before going to bed so often.

Sighing heavily, she stood up and slipped her feet into her slippers. Regardless of her problems, she still had work to do. Honestly, it might be a good distraction for her right now.

Eight stripped her bed and tossed the sheets into the laundry room to be washed. Then she got cleaned up and dressed. The first thing she had to do in the morning was ensure that everything Pearl and Marina needed for their day was ready.

Eight hastily gathered Marina's laptop from the coffee table and put it in her bag as well as any papers she had with her. She did the same with Pearl's scattering of notes, mostly song lyrics and rhymes. Giving those sheets a cursory glance she found herself appreciating some of Pearl's cleverness when it came to her own brand of poetry; although, Pearl herself would never call it that.

The collecting done, she checked the clock, roughly fifteen minutes before Pearl and Marina woke up. Perfect time to start breakfast and get their coffee brewing. Pearl was an animal without her morning coffee and it was the only time Marina typically drank it either.

Eight had just finished making an omelette when she heard a yawn. Pearl emerged from the hallway in her fluffy pink pyjamas and matching slippers. They looked quite warm, suitable for the increasing cold.

"Mornin'," The inkling said wearily, taking her seat at the kitchen island.

"Good morning," Eight replied cheerily- but not too cheerily. She added a bit of seasoning and handed the omelette to Pearl just as the coffee maker rang.

Pearl laughed weakly. "You're getting good with your timing."

"It only helps if you stay consistent," she said. "It is unusual for you to be up before Marina, however."

Pearl shrugged and accepted her mug of fresh coffee gratefully, letting the wisps of vapour drift up into her nostrils for a moment before taking a sip.

"Marina's allowed to wake up after me if she wants. I have a feeling she was up late thinking about the Work Detail thing."

"I saw some of her papers. It did seem like she was working on the agenda for the next meeting."

"Work Detail" was the name of a charity organization they were starting in order to help octolings adapt to life in Inkopolis. It had actually been Pearl's idea, in light of what happened with the octolings that had kidnapped Eight a month ago and what they would do once their community service was over. They still had to make a living after all, and Marina had taken them under her wing, acting as their new leader. They met as a group once a week to discuss their situation and raise concerns.

Work Detail, would provide a means of organizing them, helping them find odd jobs, provide means of finding training and further education; and as a social support group to help everyone adapt to life in this new world. It would also be open to other octolings already in the city and those that might come later.

Pearl sighed heavily. "We're already so busy. I can't believe she'd willingly take on more work."

Eight looked up from the second omelette she was making and knitted her brows at Pearl's concerned frown. They locked eyes and Pearl asked her, "You'd tell me if you thought she was pushing herself too hard, right? I mean, I've known her for two years but she's really good at hiding it."

Eight gave her a sardonic smile. "Well, we octolings are rather skilled at camouflage, after all." She gave a little chuckle and Pearl managed a tiny smile. "I would tell you if I thought she was pushing herself too hard. I care about her too."

Pearl nodded, satisfied. "I know. Thanks."

Marina herself appeared a full minute later. Her bronze, satin night robes swishing around her legs and barely clinging to one shoulder. Yes, it looked like she really had to force herself out of bed today.

Eight had her breakfast and coffee already waiting for her and Marina uttered a small thanks in Octese before digging in.

Pearl gave her a disapproving look but then turned her gaze to Eight as she made her own breakfast.

"What have you got planned for today, Eight?"

Eight shrugged. "I am honestly not certain. I suppose I could do some shopping. We are running low on detergents."

"Boring," Pearl complained. "Why don't you have fun? When was the last time you did turf war? The last time you did it with Three?"

Eight's hearts skipped a beat at the mention of Three's name but she managed to maintain her composure.

"I have gone once since then. It was just the other day. I usually try not to go more than a few days between participating in turf war in order to keep my skills sharp."

"Uh-huh." Pearl eyed her, not suspiciously, but more so curious. She ate a large piece of omelette and then asked, "What are you doing about Three?"

Eight froze for a second, her eyes dilating wide with alarm and mild panic before she managed to recover. "I… um, what do you mean?"

"I mean, aren't you two supposed to be...kinda dating?" She rolled her eyes. "Or whatever it is you're calling it."

"Pearl," Marina said wearily. "We already know how dimly you view Three's reaction to her confession."

"Non-reaction is more like it," Pearl huffed. Clearly the coffee was kicking in now. "Eight, it's been a month and you two haven't even been on a real date yet. What are you two doing? Is she giving you the cold shoulder?"

"No, not at all," Eight insisted. Perhaps it had felt like it the last time they met but it had been clear to Eight by the end that something was weighing on Three's mind. "We are merely… trying to understand each other right now."

Pearl groaned, her mantle turning blue with splotches of brown before it turned a solid maroon. "Eight, that's what dates are for. If you're both too anxious just to go on a date then you have some serious problems."

_You don't need to tell me that._ Eight thought. _But I'm the one with serious issues, not Three. I can't get close to her if I risk losing control. I have all these strange feelings and desires about her now that I don't know what it is I'm actually supposed to do. I don't know what instinct to follow. That's why I've just been doing simple things I see on TV, like making her lunch the other day. What are the societal protocols for this sort of thing?_

"We did eat lunch together the other day," she said tentatively. Though it had been nearly a week since then. "It's a start. Three even complimented my mealmaking."

"I remember," Pearl said, her tone dry but not quite dismissive. "But that's like the bare minimum. You don't need to be dating to get a compliment on your food."

"Depends how stingy Three is with compliments," Marina countered. "She's very much an inkling of few words."

Eight nodded emphatically. "She speaks little out loud. She prefers to speak with colour."

"I've noticed," Pearl sighed. "Sorry, Eight. I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all."

"I know," Eight said. "I am certain once we get past our respective difficulties, things will be much easier."

Pearl smirked and took another sip of her coffee. "You have a lot to learn about love, Eight. A _lot_ to learn."

Eight groaned inwardly, somehow knowing that Pearl was right and that her troubles were just starting on that front. She hoped that Three was feeling more comfortable about their situation than she was. Eight somehow doubted she would if she knew the peculiar fantasies and desires she had regarding her. She would certainly find them strange and off-putting at the very least, peculiarities of octoling behavior an inkling simply couldn't understand.

_Not that I blame her. I don't understand them myself._

"Eight," Marina said, sounding more awake than she looked. "We appreciate that you're doing your job, but don't forget to have fun too. You can spend time with Three if you want."

"I know," Eight said, finally sitting down to have her own breakfast. "It's… just hard to find the right time. We are still figuring those things out."

Pearl shook her head. "Don't spend all your time figuring things out, Eight. Sometimes you just gotta plunge in feet first and see what happens. Remember, you made the first move so Three is going to expect you to take the lead."

Eight nodded absently. She understood what Pearl was saying, but even so, she couldn't be reckless, not with her ignorance of romance and courtship, not when she could so easily push Three away forever. No, for now she would have to try and improve her understanding and hopefully that would lead to her being cleansed of all these perverse thoughts.

After all, Three deserved only the best, and she had to try and be the best for her. After everything she had done, after everything Eight owed her, that was the least she could do.

Three nodded in satisfaction at the piece of legal paper on the desk in front of her, pleased with her work. The night of fitful sleep seemed worth it now that she had this.

She traced the lines on the paper with her index finger, running through the sequences she had written down in her head as she read them.

What she had created was a chart. On the left was where she was: unable to understand the strange feeling she had, something stopping her from moving forward in a relationship with Eight and not being able to decide between staying home or accepting Callie and Marie's offer to become their full time bodyguard. From there, the chart split into two branches.

The top branch had to do with Callie and Marie's offer, where the first point was that the reasons she hesitated to accept Callie and Marie's offer was that she didn't want to feel as though she was leaving her family on the verge of two babies coming into their lives. Yet, she wanted to accept their offer because she wanted to be there for Callie and Marie as well and she considered them her family as much as her parents and they needed her too.

At that point it split into three more branches, one for each outcome she could come up with. One being she left home and accepted their offer, the second she stayed home and reluctantly rejected their offer, forcing them to rely on someone unknown and that they probably wouldn't trust right away.

_And who wouldn't likely be as strong as me._ It wasn't ego talking, she insisted to whichever deity was listening to her thoughts, it was just a fact. Plus, she didn't like the idea of a stranger taking care of two people she cared for so dearly.

The final option was a compromise; although, she couldn't imagine what that would be. Maybe Callie or Marie could come up with something but she herself wasn't so good at these things. Really, her current position as a part-time bodyguard was a compromise already so that branch was probably a dead end.

The other two branches she had continued on with things she would need to do to accomplish those outcomes. Such as getting a babysitting license if she chose to stay home. Most of it was vague, but at least the chart provided her some direction and helped her organize her thoughts.

She moved down to the branch about Eight where she honestly needed the most clarity.

She had written down the things she liked about dating Eight or imagined that she would like, and listed the negatives. The list of negatives was small and some of the items seemed petty but the feeling of distance and perceived lack of chemistry between them was a strong point, nearly as strong as the uneasy feeling she had around her.

Three slid another piece of paper towards the centre of her desk. On it she had written down a list of every time she got that same unpleasant sensation. Such as whenever she thought about Eight meeting her parents or telling Eight where she lived. It also came up when she thought of telling her parents about Eight. For now, there was no need since they weren't formally dating but if things proceeded, they would eventually.

Three held her head in her hands. Worse than those feelings had been the dreams. Dreams where she killed Eight or Eight became horrified at the killing she had done and continued to do. Times where Eight even exposed her deeds to the world and got her put in prison for mass murder, to the eternal shame of her parents.

"I don't kill for fun," she mumbled to herself. "I don't kill for fun. It's just my job." But everytime she saw Eight's pretty amber eyes she felt that gnawing feeling again.

A loud crash from downstairs halted her thoughts. She bolted to her feet and ran out of her room. She jumped from the top of the stairway and slid down the railing on her feet, something she had been able to do since childhood. Near the bottom of the stairs she jumped into the living room and ran into the kitchen.

Her iya was crouched on the floor, carefully picking up the pieces of a shattered plate. Fortunately, there appeared to have been no food on it at the time.

"Iya," she said. "Get up. I'll do it."

"I'm fine," she replied, a little testily. "I'm eggnant, not invalid."

Three sniffed impatiently, then hurried to the broom closet to get the dustpan and brush. Without prompting she knelt down in front of her iya and hurriedly swept the shattered porcelain. Her iya looked at her with annoyance but Three ignored it and held the dust pan towards her insistently. Sighing, the older inkyora dumped the shattered bits she held in her hand into the pan and stood.

"You're becoming as pushy as your father."

"I'm not being pushy," Three huffed, dumping the shattered plate into the trash. Her mantle was awash with unpleasant browns and disapproving purples. "I know you haven't been sleeping well. You're not getting enough rest."

"I am just fine. You're overreacting."

"We want you to take care of yourself."

"I _am_ taking care of myself. I've been taking care of myself since long before you hatched, young lady."

"So you should be better at it," Three snapped. Then her face softened, white apology spots appearing on her mantle as it turned a darker blue. "Just… don't make me worry.'

Her iya frowned and then sat in the chair at the head of the table. Her mantle was a melancholy purple, brown in some spots, but there were ripples of passionate pink in it as well.

Three pulsed a curious yellow and her iya gave her a bittersweet smile. "I'm just remembering when your mother was carrying you. She was still trying to do the same things she always did, running around, driving that car recklessly down the touges, no sense of fear or caution at all. It's common sense that high adrenaline action isn't something you should be indulging in when you're with egg."

Three frowned, a fresh knot forming in her stomach. "But… why? Didn't she care about me? Didn't she love me?" What her iya was telling her was completely contrary to her own image of her mother. Someone who loved and cherished her, tucked her in at night, read her bedtime stories, freaked out if she so much as skimmed her knee, and never missed one of her recitals. She had been someone who's love she never once doubted. Had she simply imagined those things?

Her iya's mantle flared orange and then turned to a serene blue. "Baby, of course she loved you, she loved you with all her heart and soul. Never ever doubt her love for you."

Three stared at her. "But… but you just said-."

"I wasn't finished."

Her iya opened her arms invitingly and Three came and sat sideways on her lap, resting her head against her shoulder. Three felt like a child as her iya applied slow, loving strokes to her mantle.

"As I was saying, your mother was doing all these reckless things and we finally put our foot down and told her to stop. We did everything but tie her down but she just wouldn't sit still. One day, we went out after her and found her in the park under a tree, crying." Three pulsed yellow again, asking 'why.' "Because she was scared."

Three's mantle turned a confused yellow-orange and then she again asked why.

"She was scared of being a mother," Her iya whispered softly. "That's why she was doing all of those reckless things. She was running away, trying to forget how scared she was that you were coming. She always loved you, sweetheart, but sometimes, fear gets in the way of love and you can forget what love really means."

That last phrase hit Three like a truck. Fear got in the way of love? She always thought that it was love that helped one overcome fear. At least, that's what movies and TV shows she had grown up on said.

"H-how did she get over it?" Three asked meekly.

"By telling us she was afraid. Sometimes a large part of being scared isn't just what you're afraid of but also the fear of other people knowing that you're afraid. Your mother liked to think she was tough, that she could tackle anything. It was the image she had and she didn't like the thought of breaking that image by admitting fear."

"So… ego was a part of it?"

Her iya laughed. "Ego is often a part of it and your mother always had ego to spare, but once she admitted her fear to us, we were able to address her fears and help her get past them. Once that was done, she stopped being reckless and focused on trying to be the best mother she could be. The one you remember."

Three pulsed green and listened to her iya's hearts beating. "Are you scared, Iya?"

"Not scared. A little nervous, maybe. I guess I can't help but worry if I'll be a good mother or not."

Three spun in her lap, stared straight into her eyes and then gave her a big hug. "You already are. You just get to be one with your own offspring now. I'm really happy for you, Iya. I love you."

Her iya hugged back, her grip tight but loving. "You have no idea what that means to me, Cortina."

"If Mama was still here she'd punish me for not saying it more often."

"Ha ha, yes, probably. But even so, your father and I never doubted your love, sweetheart. Neither did your mama."

"I know, but I should probably try to be around more…"

"At your age, I'm grateful that you're home as much as you are. By the time your mother and I were your age we had already run away from home."

Three hummed, leaning her head on her iya's chest. Could she really leave now? After all that? Her iya had given her a lot to think about, and a new perspective on her problems. Maybe it would help her solve them and then maybe she could figure out which path was the right one to take.

If there was one thing Three knew for certain, it was that she was afraid and afraid of a great many things.

**Author's****Notes:**

Not the longest chapter, I grant you, but I hope you enjoyed it. As is common in many relationships, especially first-time relationships, those involved are often the ones getting in their own way.

If you're wondering about Eight's... accident, inklings and octolings both have their funnels on their backs. This is where their ink is expelled from. They don't sweat like humans do, they use their ink as a heatsink and expel it. Longer tentacles allow them to better regulate their heat. Looking at it like that, Pearl being the only idol with a short mantle means she's making quite a statement, heh heh.


	6. Dirty

Eight tried to be inconspicuous as she entered the gallery but she couldn't help feeling out of place. She had only just arrived and at least half a dozen couples had passed her by already. Were she just passing through or running errands she wouldn't be bothered, but she was here for a different reason: she was here to observe.

Taking Pearl's advice, Eight looked up the most popular dating spots in Inkopolis and had chosen the location closest to where they lived, a place she could visit often. As it turned out, it wasn't far from Inkopolis Square. In fact, it was the oldest shopping gallery in the city, recently revitalized thanks to the square's activity. Now that she was here, she could already feel the difference in atmosphere.

In Inkopolis Square, the feel of the place was one of excitement, tension, and urgency. This gallery lacked the tension altogether, being more a place of merriment and comfortable routine, much more relaxed. There was also the fact that many of the people here were walking hand in hand.

One girl had her arm tightly around that of a boy as she leaned against him while they walked, her mantle radiating bright pinks and reds. Another couple sat on a bench, looking anywhere but at each other even as they held hands. The girl's face was so brightly flushed Eight thought she might explode.

_I know that feeling._ Eight thought with a sigh. She tried to find a central location where she could sit and observe without being too conspicuous. She found a sitting area with parasols at each table. She bought a drink and took a seat facing what appeared to be the densest concentration of couples, filling up what the sign above called an arcade. She was close enough that she could actually hear some of what they were saying and that helped her better understand the mechanics at play.

One girl looked bored and annoyed as her date tried and failed again and again at a crane game, trying to win her a prize inside. Eight had seen similar contraptions down in the metro and hadn't understood what they were at the time.

Nearby, a group of girls watched a group of boys playing one of the games, fighting and straining to get the high score. In contrast to the first girl, these were cheering the boys on, looking genuinely excited even as the boys yelled and cursed at each other to reach their goal. Eight smiled a little, finding the scene amusing.

There were interesting things to observe elsewhere too. Young mothers walked with their broods, showing them off proudly as young inkyora flocked to them, stopping to admire and fawn over their little children. An inkyar standing in the middle of the nearby intersection was himself being swarmed as half a dozen inkyora, each one vying for his attention with bright colours in their mantles until any looked at each other and their colours changed to darker more aggressive ones. Were they competing for him?

"Gold for your thoughts?"

Eight jumped and snappd to her left to see Four's grinning face.

Eight sighed. "You surprised me."

Four laughed and sat across the small round table from her, setting her turf war gear on the ground beside her. "Sorry. I honestly didn't expect to run into you here of all places. It's kinda' out of the way from where you live."

"There is a gallery and shopping centre I typically go to that is a little closer," Eight admitted. "As I recall, we have run into each other there before."

Four frowned. "Did we? I don't remember."

"You were feeling quite down at the time. I'm not surprised you don't remember."

"Oh…," Four's expression fell and she looked away for a moment. Her mantle turned to a deep blue and wavy patterns of crimson throbbed.

_Pain?_ Eight wondered. It was the first thing that came to mind upon seeing that.

Four shook her head clear and readopted her smile, her mantle returning to its regular yellow-orange colour. "So, what _are_ you doing here?

Eight winced and stared down at her drink, still untouched. "I'm… observing. Pearl said I should observe real couples instead of just fictional ones."

"Ah," Four nodded. "Yeah, this is a pretty popular dating spot. I see new couples and broken couples every time I come through here."

Eight frowned. "You come through here often?"

"Sure. I live North of the square so I pass through here back and forth every time. Well, except when it's closed, of course." She grinned but Eight ignored her little jest.

"So, you see many examples of couples every day." Eight looked back at the arcade and the couples within. The boys were still trying for the high score and the one girl had finally dragged her boyfriend away from the claw machine before he wasted all his money. "I suppose Three and I really do not act like a couple, do we?"

Four sighed. "Eight, you're not really a couple yet. You're in the stage where you're… trying to become a couple. Even though you both know how the other feels, it's like you're afraid to take the next step. I mean, I know you were friends and I know you trust each other but you two really didn't know each other that well. That's why you're so nervous moving forward."

"So people keep saying." Eight rested her chin on her hand, still staring out towards the arcade. "Did I make a mistake?"

"Maybe, but you can't take it back now and I talked with Three; she really wants to make this work if it can. It's just that… well, she's dealing with a lot of stuff right now and you haven't been yourself lately."

Eight frowned and sat up, looking directly at Four. "Have I not?"

Four crossed her arms, her mantle turning a violet-red. "No. Sure you smile a bit but you don't seem as energetic and happy as you were before. I mean, I know the magic of living on the surface is gonna wear off eventually but the last little while it seems you've kinda' forgotten all about that."

Eight grimaced, looking back down into her cup, fidgeting slightly. "I... I suppose my mind has been somewhat occupied by other things, lately."

Four's mantle flashed blue. "Is Three all you've been thinking about?"

Eight opened her mouth to respond but no sounds emerged. She slowly closed it shut and her tentacles curled back, exposing their undersides. "I admit she has dominated my thoughts."

Four gave her a small smile. "It's normal when you're in love, but why don't you and Three go out and do stuff? I know you're busy but you're not _that_ busy. Sparring and turf war is fine but you should do stuff more… well, like what couples do." She nodded towards the arcade. "Give Three a chance to maybe win you a plushie."

Eight followed her gaze back to the arcade and at the infernal claw machine, imagining Three trying to win one of the toys inside for her.

"Somehow, I think the machine would not survive the confrontation."

Four laughed uproariously. It actually took her a little bit to settle back down and respond. "Yeah, probably right. But claw machines are evil anyway, so think of it as your duty as an agent to rid the city of it. I'm sure she'd see it that way."

Eight couldn't help but smile. "Maybe. It's just-." She bit her bottom lip, stopping herself from going on. Four raised a suspicious eyebrow then glanced down at Eight's drink and leaned back in her chair.

"Say, you wanna come to my place? I know you're people watching right now but it just looks like you're making yourself depressed. Like you're looking at all these couples and feeling like yours isn't anything great."

Eight winced. Four was right. She had come out here to observe but while it was interesting, she couldn't help but compare her and Three's relationship to all these couples and realize how short it came up.

"I suppose I should."

"Yeah, you should." Four stood and grabbed her gear. "Come on. We'll order some takeout when we get there.'

Eight picked up her drink, still untouched, and followed alongside Four as she led her out of the gallery.

Four's apartment was a half-hour walk from the gallery. It was a three-story, low-rise, rectangular structure with the short side facing the street. A back lane filled the gap between it and the next building, providing just enough room for a truck to squeeze through. On this face were the doorways of each apartment with balconies on the opposite side. Unlike the condos of Pearl and Marina's building, the stairs were on the outside, one stairway at the two corners.

It suddenly dawned on Eight that this was the first time she was entering the home of someone who wasn't a celebrity - Cuttlefish Cabin aside. Pearl and Marina's penthouse, Callie and Marie's bungalow, both were beyond the means of the average inkling.

They walked up the green, metal stairs to the third floor. She could hear music blaring in one of the suites below and she grimaced at the thought of being in a building without adequate soundproofing when having such noisy neighbours.

Four unlocked her door and Eight took a deep calming breath before she followed her inside.

It was even more humble than she expected. Four's kitchen was a mere alcove in the wall just beyond the porch. One would have to stand in the hallway while making food and there was less counter space than the penthouse's kitchen island alone and it was covered in dirty plates, bowls, and utensils.

"Sorry about the mess," Four said with an apologetic smile. "Make yourself at home."

Eight said nothing; she didn't trust her mouth at the moment. Stepping beyond the porch and sliding door closets opposite the kitchen, she followed Four to the main room. It was surprisingly dark. Although her eyes quickly adjusted, it was obvious that the apartment didn't get much sunlight with tall buildings in front and behind it. The only window was the sliding glass door leading onto the balcony.

_I really am spoiled._ Eight thought- a thought she would not have had a few months ago. Compared to her old barracks or the metro, even Four's humble apartment was luxurious; although, perhaps less so in its current state.

The main room was a complete mess. Dirty clothes, discarded food wrappers, and other items littered the floor. The small bed was unmade, it's blankets half lying on the dirty floor, and a small square table in the middle of the room had half a dozen dirty glasses and plates on it. The room smelled too.

Four reached up and pulled a small metal chain dangling from the ceiling, turning on the lights attached to the underside of a ceiling fan. She casually placed her gear in the corner of the room and sat at the table.

"What a long morning," she said with a yawn. "There were some good teams out."

"At least it's good practice," Eight said, sweeping aside some debris with her foot to make room for herself at the table.

"I guess. At least I managed to avoid getting splatted. Marie gives me fire every time I slip."

"It's because she cares."

"I know," Four sighed. "My Dad once said that you know someone loves you or at least cares about you if they nag you a lot. I'm not sure how much I believe that but it seems to fit Marie."

"Nag you?" Eight asked.

"Yeah, like, how Marie and Three are always telling me to be patient or avoid getting splatted in turf war so I don't develop bad habits. I don't need the constant reminders but they give 'em anyway."

"Ah, I think I see." Eight said. "Pearl is always telling me I need to be more assertive."

"With Three? Yeah, you should be."

Eight shook her head. "No, I do not think-, it is just… I do not know if Three would respond well to that. Our relationship seems to be on unstable ground as it is."

"So, you're afraid to make a move?"

Eight shrank. "I suppose."

"But there's more to it, right?"

Eight shrank again and she averted her eyes from Four. How did she know?

She heard Four sigh. "Eight, did you think we wouldn't notice how Three is the only person you don't seem to talk normally around? You talk way more naturally with me, Pearl, and Marina, but Three, the girl you're actually into, you talk almost like she's a strict aunt or something. Three thinks you might even be afraid of her."

Eight stiffened, now looking right back at Four. "She does? But why? I admit, I used to be afraid of her but-"

Four put up her hands. "Look, I know Three hasn't been doing the best job either but you are kinda' sending her mixed signals. You're the one who came out to her and, yeah she gave you kind of a half-baked answer but at least it was an honest one. She really does want this thing to work out but she doesn't know if or how. I mean, it even feels like you and me are closer than you and her are."

That stung and it made Eight wince visibly; she couldn't deny it. However, Four wasn't kept up late at night with impure thoughts of Three tenderly dominating her, she didn't have to deal with the odd yet powerful urges to inhale Three's scent, to know what her lips felt like on hers, to try on the other girl's clothes for no reason other than to have something on her skin that had been on Three's.

Four reached her hands across the table to grasp Eight's, holding them firmly. Their eyes met and Eight could see the intensity behind those yellow-orange orbs and a firmness of intent to help. Eight couldn't stop herself from shifting uncomfortably.

"Eight," Four said firmly. "I can tell it's eating you up. Aren't I your best friend? Can't you tell me what's wrong? You were so full of life before and you even went on the attack with Three, but now it's like all that spunk went up in smoke."

Eight felt a stab of guilt. It was true, she hadn't felt like herself lately, hadn't been herself.

Four went on.

"And, Three has been pretty worried. After all, when you confessed, she said that she liked you, even if she didn't know how much. Now, that girl she liked is nowhere to be seen. How do you think she feels about that?"

The knife of guilt twisted. Three had noticed? She was worried?

"What do I do? If I do not change myself back- no, return to normal, then Three might refuse me!"

"Dump you," Four corrected gently. "But yeah, maybe. Honestly, I'd like you to get back to normal too. Nobody likes seeing their best friend so glum. You were mostly okay the last time we hung out but it feels like you've kept slipping."

Eight's shoulders sagged and she nodded solemnly. "I have."

"Look, if you can't tell me what's wrong, can you at least tell me what's been on your mind?"

Eight looked at her, into those eyes. The earnestness in them was nearly heartbreaking. She wanted to tell her everything, disgorge all her feelings of confusion and others she didn't understand. But she had barely any context herself. How was she even supposed to explain it to Four?

Wetting her lips with her tongue, Eight straightened. She would start simple.

"After I confessed to Three, I was very excited. As I said before, it was a challenge, one I thought would be fun- it still is. But that's on Three's side. For myself, there are… difficulties. I do not understand them and I am not certain how to explain."

Four frowned deeply and leaned forward to rest her arms on the table. "What kind of difficulties?"

"At the start, it was simply knowing what it was to be a girlfriend, or perhaps, more accurately, how to court Three into accepting me, as such. I did a lot of research, watching TV, looking up advice online, and reading magazine articles I thought applicable."

Four's face warped in a painful grimace and Eight felt heat rise to her face, knowing what she was thinking. "Th-that is why Pearl told me to watch real couples today."

"Yeah, kinda hard to be an expert in something with no manual just by reading about it," Four said.

Eight nodded slowly. "Yes, I have started to realize that. I admit it became something of an obsession." She swallowed hard. "Three became something of an obsession."

Four nodded, flashing green, but said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"I think that is when I started experiencing strange… compulsions?" She said the last word uncertainly. Her knowledge of Inklish was being stretched.

"Compulsions?" Four asked, puzzled.

"I do not know if that is the correct word," she said. "But it… makes me feel strange things and have odd desires regarding Three."

Four raised an eyebrow, not in confusion, but curiosity, and Eight thought that perhaps she saw a glint of amusement in the inkling's eyes. Eight didn't understand what was so amusing.

"What kind of odd desires?" She asked. Her voice with that soft, knowing tone was like fingers digging into Eight's side, coercing her into revealing her secrets.

"I…" She felt her face heating up and she found she couldn't look Four in the eye. Then she heard a noise.

It started out as a wheeze, then a giggle, then it graduated into a chuckle and then Four burst, laughed uproariously, falling onto her back in a crash of old wrappers and pizza boxes.

Eight stared at her, lips tight, and incensed. "Four, this is not amusing!" But the inkling kept laughing, her face blue as she started to run out of breath and clutched her sides. It was almost another full minute before she sat upright again, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I can't believe that's what you were worried about."

Eight's arms and tentacles were crossed and she gared across the table at Four, not the least bit amused. "You think you understand what has been affecting me?"

"What? That you've been having spicy dreams about Three? That you've had the urge to hug her and kiss her? Come on, Eight, that's normal."

"I… I can understand that. I know the desire to kiss and having dreams about the one you love is normal," Eight said a little angrily. "However, my dreams lately have been… wrong, and it's other urges I have that confuse me."

"Like what? Are you sure these weird things aren't just because of all the research you've been doing into dating and romance and stuff?"

Eight pursed her lips. She had considered that but she didn't recall any of her sources mentioning a desire to wear her love's shirts or take in deep breaths filled with their scent. Still, the results of watching _My Girlfriend Keeps Growing Curvier_ were obvious so she couldn't totally discount it.

"I suppose that might be part of it," she admitted.

One corner of Four's mouth pulled back and down. She rested her cheek on her hand then asked, "So what have you actually been doing?"

Eight blinked. "Pardon?"

"You've been doing all this research but have you been doing anything with it?"

Eight's mind blanked. Nothing came to her, at least not at first. She traced her memory back, trying to think of what it was she had done with the knowledge she had gained.

"Well, we did start sparring together… no, that was Three's idea. I guess I did make her lunch."

Four smacked herself in the face with her hand and dragged it down. "You confessed to her a month ago, you've been doing all this research on romance and stuff; and all you've done is make her a sandwich?" Four was incredulous.

"They were fish balls," Eight said defensively. "With carrot slices and a tart."

"A month, Eight." Four said more forcefully. "A month and you haven't done anything. You've been doing all this research and Three has been waiting and you've done nothing! That's not like you at all."

Eight slammed both fists on the table, clattering the plates and causing some of the glasses to fall over.

"You don't know what it's like!" Eight shouted in Octese. "You don't know how it is to grow up without knowing anything of romance and the only love you know is from your mother and the nurses that raised you for three years after you were taken away from her at the age of two. Their love was all we had to remember and fraternization is frowned upon in the army. It was never talked about, never spoken of, it was practically taboo! You have no idea how frightening it is to experience these feelings for the first time, the pressure and anxieties that come with wanting to be with someone else, feelings you have no context for.

"I spent so much time doing research because I knew that Three deserved to be treated properly. I wanted to do things right. I didn't know what to do and all the advice everyone gave me seemed so vague. Nobody told me what rules I was supposed to follow, nobody told me what steps to take, and Three is so difficult to read and she won't tell me anything about herself and and…." Eight gritted her teeth and then smacked a pile of trash next to her, sending it spraying away. "It makes me so angry!"

Four pounded her own fist on the table. "You're totally right. Three is always so aloof, happy to listen to other people's secrets and about their lives but won't talk about her own. Thinks she has to be cool and mysterious or something. Even Callie and Marie only know about her family because they caught her at a bad time. It slipped out."

Eight agreed. "She says she trusts us with her life but won't tell us much about herself, about her interests or hobbies, the kind of music she like that isn't the Squid Sisters. How am I supposed to get to know her better if she refuses to tell me anything?"

"She acts like the big sister, always nagging me about acting this way and that way and how an agent should act, but it's like that's the only life she lives. It's like she wants everyone to think the agent part is the only part of her and that the real her doesn't exist outside of her house."

"She said she liked me but only recently did I even get a hint that she really does. How am I supposed to be encouraged by that? I sent her that poem I wrote while you were all on vacation. Do you know how she replied? She said, 'nice poem', and that was it!"

Both girls sat, panting lightly, throats raw from the yelling. Their eyes remained fixated on each other, unwavering, halfway glaring. But then, Four managed a small smile and she settled back down.

"This is the first time I've heard you be angry at Three," she said in Inklish.

Eight exhaled deeply. "It is not the first time I have felt angry."

Four's mantle flashed grey. "Three may be dumb at times and really frustrating but she does care. She's just… dealing with a lot of other stuff right now too, what with the new siblings coming and all."

Eight nodded. "I suppose I am not guiltless either." She shook her head, feeling very foolish. "I became so focused on my research and trying to be perfect that I forgot about Three herself."

"Huh, I guess so." Four tapped her chin. "So what are you gonna' do now?"

"I do not know."

Four smiled. "Maybe what you really need is a refresh. Something to clear your head. Maybe you haven't been yourself because there's no room for you in that head of yours."

Eight looked uncertain but at this point she seriously needed to think of ways to get out of this bad mental place she had gotten herself into.

"What are you proposing?"

"A sleepover! You can crash here at my place and get a change of scenery. We'll stay up and watch some of your romance stuff and we can talk about it. Not like a serious discussion, just chilling and laughing together - a girls night. Maybe you'll find that some of this stuff you've been worried about isn't as big a deal as you think it is or maybe you just need to let it out."

Eight took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It did seem nice and sleepovers did seem fun when she saw them on TV. She could use a change in her routine. Pearl and Marina would probably allow her one night.

"Alright," she said. "On one condition."

Four frowned, watching her as she stood up and stepped back. "What?"

Eight took out her phone and snapped a picture. Four blinked from the flash. "What's that for?"

Eight swept her hand in front of her. "If we're having a sleepover, we have to clean up this mess."

Four pouted like a child, her mantle turning a dark brown colour. "We can just… shove some stuff out of the way-."

"If you refuse to clean-," Eight interrupted, turning her phone around to show Four the picture she took. "-Then I'll send this to Marie."

All colour drained from Four, her face and mantle turning a deathly white.

"You wouldn't."

Eight grinned smugly. "I would, because I care."

Four leaned back, groaning loudly. "Fine, fine, we can clean up." She grumbled. "Just can't stop being a maid, can you?"

"No more than I can stop being your friend."

Four chuckled despite herself. "Fine. I'd rather deal with this mess than Marie, but before we start, let's order lunch. I'm starving."

Four took out her phone and started dialing while Eight gathered up the dishes and carried them to the kitchen. The countertop was so filthy that it actually smelled. It was a wonder Four wasn't sick.

Thinking back to their conversation - argument really, she decided that Four was right. She wasn't herself, she wasn't being the girl Three had initially fallen in love with. She wasn't the person she herself wanted to be.

"I need to find myself again." She whispered to herself. The Wisdoms said that knowing a problem was half the battle, but that didn't mean it was the easiest. How would she go about finding herself again? Could she do so in time to still win Three's hearts?

**Author's****Notes:**

A true friend tells you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear. I like to think Four is a good friend to our little Eight. But next time, it's Three's turn.


	7. Prisoners

Three peered through her Hero Shot's scope, examining the compound below in detail. She had never been to this part of the domes before but considering the state it was in she considered that no big loss.

Many of the domes were falling apart but this one looked to be on the verge of total collapse. Much of the shell was gone, leaving little more than the skeletal frame to hold back the earth. The lack of lights made it very dark and Three had made certain to let her eyes adjust before moving in deep.

Most of the buildings had been long gone, either crushed by debris or scavenged for materials. Octarians were very good at recycling.

A single straight route was marked by dim amber post lights, showing the route from the kettle on the opposite end of the dome to the compound - by far the most well lit part of the dome, with mast lights illuminating whole sections.

Three watched the battlements of the wall that surrounded the compound. Only a handful of guards and the watchtowers were half dismantled, no doubt being salvaged for more materials. Overall, the place didn't look very secure. Hardly the sort of place you would keep prisoners of value.

"See anything?"

Three pulled back from the scope and looked to her left. Callie sat with her knees pulled up against her chest. Her roller lay on the ground next to her, and her black tentacles were tied in her trademark bow underneath her pink beanie.

"Guards," Three answered. "Not many. You're sure about this place?"

"This is where they're being kept." Callie said firmly. "Maybe the compound on the surface is just a cover? Maybe there's more underground."

Three smirked. "Callie, we're already underground."

Callie giggled. "Right, I forgot. You know, in Octo Canyon, they don't build their domes underground in most places, they just cover the canyon with a roof. Because of that they tend to be more vertical. Marie told me that Four complained about her otoliths hurting after some missions."

Three nodded and looked back through the scope, checking the central buildings. It was actually fairly easy to spot the prisoner cells because the windows were covered with dulled yellow plastic. Almost in the middle of the compound, it appeared to be the most well guarded building.

"You haven't seen them in months." Three said. "Are you sure they'll recognize you? You're not showing as much skin these days, either."

Callie raised an eyebrow at her, a few light ripples of yellow and orange washing down her tentacles. "I'm sure. I mean, I'm the only inkling they've ever known, after all, and they should recognize my voice." Then she crossed her arms and grinned. "And since when have you been such a smart mouth? Is Four actually rubbing off on you?"

Three opened her mouth to vehemently deny it, but she paused for a moment of reflection and then slowly relaxed. "I guess so."

Callie smiled and reached out with one of her tentacles to give Three a pat on the back. "That's good. You two actually bonded pretty quickly. A lot of people at the resort thought you were sisters by blood."

Three was fairly certain that was a gross exaggeration given how much Four told her she needed to loosen up. "They also thought I was your blood sister and Four was Marie's."

"Just a sign of how close we've all become." Her voice softened. "How much we've become a family." She reached out with her fingers this time, gliding them up Three's tentacle in a slow almost sensual motion.

Three felt her hearts quicken. Callie was always able to do that to her, probably without her even meaning to. Sometimes, she wondered-.

A low rumbling noise touched Three's otoliths and interrupted her thoughts. She turned to face Callie again. The inkling's mantle rippled an embarrassed light-blue and she had a hand on her stomach. Three sighed, removing one of the ration bars from her pouch and tossing it to her.

"Second Puberty is really kicking in, huh?."

Callie accepted it gratefully. "You have no idea. Marie and I can barely sleep at night because we're always getting up to have midnight snacks."

Three found herself smirking. "Marie doesn't even try to hide it anymore? It must be really bad."

Callie giggled and unwrapped the bar. These ration bars were equivalent to a full meal for an adult. Hopefully, it would satiate Callie for the duration of their mission.

Three returned her attention to her scope and examined other parts of the compound, looking for parts of the wall that might be easier to scale or get through, checking lines of sight for static guard positions, and the composition of forces.

Most of the guards were octo troopers, easy prey, with a handful of octocopters to provide overwatch. A single tower came out of what looked like a headquarters building, which likely contained administration and living quarters for the guards. Most likely there were only one or two octolings to keep an eye on things. The rest were prisoners.

"How does it look?" Callie asked.

"Not too bad. I've definitely broken into more heavily guarded places. As long as there's nothing too unexpected about the layout or any other hidden surprises, we should be alright."

"Only one of the cell blocks is in use," Callie said, pulling a sheet out from the pocket of her sweater. "They keep the prisoners apart. Fortunately there are only two or three that aren't one of the ones we're looking for."

Three nodded. "If you say so."

Callie showed Three the paper. It was a layout of the main cell block she had spotted earlier. Three levels of cells but only a relative handful of prisoners. That wasn't surprising. The Octarians didn't have the resources to spare to take care of people who didn't contribute to society. They did have penal splatoons for less severe criminals, while others were simply executed. This compound housed prisoners that they couldn't execute, for one reason or another, and didn't want mixing with others.

"I want to try and get them out soon," Callie said softly. "They've been in there for months."

"Are you sure they even want to?"

"Yes." Callie's tone brokered no argument. "Trust me, Three, they do."

She stood and brushed off her shorts. "Welp, I guess we'd better head back. Look's like we've learned everything we need to and I don't want to spend the rest of my day off in this dank place. I'm getting depressed just looking at it."

Three nodded, taking one last look at the compound before she joined Callie.

They followed the perimeter of the dome until they reached the other side where there was a small guard post. It was commanded by a single octoling, who was currently napping and a pair of octo troopers on their little platforms. Sneaking around them to go up the kettle was child's play.

Back on the surface, the weather was calm with only a few puffy white clouds in the sky. It was a little chilly after being in the warm domes but that was something they were accustomed to. Callie zipped up her sweater to compensate while Three was still fairly warm in her well covering gear.

They began their walk back to Cuttlefish Cabin. Free from the necessity of stealth, Callie was able to strike up another conversation.

"So, have things been going better with Eight lately?"

Three shook her head. "No. They might even be getting worse. Eight hasn't been as… she hasn't seemed the same since we got back from our vacation."

"Ah, yeah, she does look a bit down in the dumps lately. That vibrant spirit is one of the things you like about her, right?"

Three felt that irritating twisting in her gut again but she forced herself to ignore it. If there was one person she knew she could talk to, it was Callie. It didn't feel right to spill her guts to Four the other day but not to Callie now.

"When I told her I liked her, it was what I meant. Maybe part of me wished I could be like that."

"You're vibrant in your own way," Callie said, grinning. "It's just that you tend to hide it more often than not. Remember when you sang with us for the Christmas album? You were glowing."

Three's mantle turned light blue and her cheeks warmed. "That was only for one song."

"You provided harmony for some of the other songs too. I'm sure Eight would love to hear you sing."

Three's mantle turned charcoal.

"Awww, come on, she'd love it, everyone would."

"The only reason I sang that song with you was because that was Mama's favourite Squidmas song."

"And because you love to sing," Callie added.

Three clicked her beak and Callie smiled. "Awww, baby, I wish you wouldn't be so embarrassed about your gift. You said you didn't feel guilty about it anymore-."

"I don't," Three snapped. "But that doesn't mean I want everyone to know about it. I don't even know why I have this gift. It would have been better spent on someone else, like Eight or Four. Someone who would actually use it."

"You can use it if you want to."

"But I don't, so it's wasted on me. Like so many other things."

Callie raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Like what?"

"Nothing," Three mumbled.

"Too late now. Come on, Three, you know you can tell me anything."

"I don't wanna'."

Callie smiled. "You always act more infantile when you get cornered."

"I do not!"

Callie laughed and pinched the agent's cheek. "Aww Three, for someone who likes to wear capes you're awfully self-conscious."

Three blushed again and rubbed her cheek. "It looks good."

"Of course it does, sweetie, but do you act like this around Eight?"

Three's expression darkened. "I act normal."

"Normal for you or what most people would consider normal?"

Three glared at her but Callie just arched and eyebrow.

"I see, normal for you then."

"What's wrong with that?"

"If you're trying to establish a relationship, a lot.

"Remember when we were first getting to know each other? You were very closed off. You never told us anything about yourself and you weren't terribly forthcoming when we asked about you either."

Three frowned. "I don't like people asking about me so I don't ask about them. It's mutual respect."

"Is it? I certainly didn't feel respected the way you kept brushing us off and acting all prickly."

Three flinched. "But I'm better now, right?"

"To me, Marie, and maybe Four, but not Eight, right? Actually, kind of surprising since you've actually known Eight longer than you have Four."

Three flinched and her mantle developed blotches of washed out purple. "It's just… I didn't see Eight as much as Four until later."

Callie pulsed blue. "Three, you shouldn't be ashamed to have felt apprehensive about Eight because she's an octoling. Especially given the fact that every octoling you've known up until then has tried to kill you. What's important is that you got over that and you trust her now."

Three's mantle darkened. A small gust of wind kicked up bits of dust and debris and made a howling noise through the metal pipes of some long forgotten structure nearby.

Callie's mantle tinted a dark yellow. "You do trust her, don't you?"

"With my life," Three insisted. "She saved me twice."

"Then what's the problem-." Callie cut herself off as a memory from two years ago popped into her mind. Three's expression darkened and she looked away.

"You're still feeling guilty?"

Three pulsed grey and blue. "Maybe a little. I wasn't until Eight confessed to me and then… it just all started coming back."

"Oh." Callie remembered all too well the crying and screaming fourteen-year-old huddled in an old sewer pipe overwhelmed by things no fourteen-year-old should have to deal with.

Callie put a hand on Three's head and rubbed it gently. "Baby, you know you can always talk to me and Marie about these things. I know you don't like to admit weakness but you really don't have to hide it from your family. It's not like we'd be disappointed."

Three made a disgruntled gurgling sound and her mantle turned scarlet with more washed out purple blotches.

"But what about me?" Three asked. "What about how I feel about me?"

"That's the most important thing," Callie said softly. "So how do you feel about yourself?"

Three's lips curled back in a snarl. "Disgusted. I know Eight is good and that I can trust her, but… but I've just done so many things. I've killed people she knew, people she grew up with. I just… don't think it would work out, not when I see her face on every octoling I've killed. On every octoling I might have to kill."

Callie pulsed blue. "Thr- Cortina, don't you think you should talk to her about this? She does seem to really like you and I don't think you should make assumptions. Trust me, I've played enough characters on TV to know this. She needs to know how you feel."

Three made an unhappy noise while her mantle turned brown. "I'm not good at talking."

Callie flashed grey. "I'm not particularly good at driving but I still got a license. It's practice. Besides, it would be disrespectful to Eight not to talk to her about this. You need to be honest with her. You're the one who said you liked her."

"But what if I end up insulting her?"

"Three… don't you think she's also having conflicting feelings? I mean, she was an Octarian soldier, raised to fight and kill inklings and now she's asking you, their nemesis, to date her. I think she'll understand.

"Look, the point I'm trying to make is that you can't solve your problems by avoiding them; you have to face them head on or they'll just keep dragging you down and that's no way to live."

"I've worn a cape. I can manage."

Callie grinned. "Okay, Four is definitely rubbing off on you."

Three arched an eyebrow. "What makes you think it isn't Marie?"

"Well, Marie's snarky but Four has a less salty kind of wit." She bumped her hip into Three. "You should know the difference by now."

"I've never been good at humor."

"Practice, Three, practice. I think it's a sign that you're opening up a little more. Maybe practicing some of that too would help."

Three pulsed grey. "I don't think I'd like that."

Callie giggled. "You need to worry less about keeping this big, scary image of yours. Don't worry, you only need to open up to a few of us, including Eight. As long as you trust her, what's the harm?"

"I don't know," Three admitted. "Maybe that's what scares me."

Callie gave her a quick hug. "Let's just go to my place and we'll both get our minds off our problems for now. Maybe what you need is a clear head or a new perspective. Maybe a change in your routine might help. Try a new outfit, buy new ones, something like that."

"Maybe," Three said. She still wondered if Eight would appreciate what she would have to say by opening up to her. She didn't know how she would react. But, if Callie said she should open up then she knew she had to try, because who better than her would know?

**Author's Notes:**

And now we get to a story point that was originally introduced early in _Looking, Feeling, Touching_, where Callie is trying to free the octolings who looked after her while she was under hypnosis. This will become a more important part of the plot later on.

This is one of those chapters I had to rewrite quite a few times to even get it to this stage as Three's main conflict changed frequently during the early drafts. I think it's alright now though.


	8. The War Inside

Eight had mixed feelings as she stared up at the tall, stone pyramid in front of her. Twenty feet tall and surrounded by a small moat with little fountains, it dominated the area around it, commanding a presence than belied its simplicity, but not its purpose. The pyramid was not only a monument, but a reminder, for it marked the furthest into Inkopolis the Octarian military had invaded. It was at this spot the tide had turned.

Eight thought it almost ironic. The dream of every Octarian was to conquer Inkopolis, to drive the Inklings out so that they could claim it for themselves, for the benefit of their own civilization; yet she, as an Octarian, was roaming free about the city, going pretty much wherever she pleased, not as a conqueror, but as a citizen. She hadn't had to conquer anything to be there. In fact, she had saved Inkopolis. Even so, being there, in that place the dream died, left her with some bitter feelings stemming from a lifetime of conditioning.

She tried to ignore the looks people were giving her. She had somewhat expected this to be a place she wouldn't be welcome, but everyone's expressions looked more confused or even guilty instead, but she was certain all were wondering why she was there.

During their sleepover, Four had suggested she try exploring the city again, like she used to do when she first arrived, to rekindle that spark she used to have. Eight _had _been hoping to see more of the city instead of the same places again and again as she ran errands. To that end, she had purchased a guidebook and looked for places she hadn't been to before. This had been the first on the list.

Eight looked back up at the pyramid, it's stone surface reflecting the bright sunlight. Her guidebook said that a pyramid had been chosen for the monument because pyramid shapes represented fortitude, strength, and longevity in Inkling culture, likely because some of the first Precursor relics discovered were pyramids, still standing after thousands of years. Badly weathered by the sun and wind, but still standing. That's what the guidebook said anyway.

Eight tried to think of something similar in Octarian culture but couldn't remember anything. Her education had not been particularly advanced; she had been raised expecting to be nothing more than a common foot soldier. Then again, surely if there were such symbols they would have used them as part of their indoctrination, something to represent strength and power. Yet, all she could remember was Oactavio.

She sighed heavily and turned away from the monument. What she needed was a clear head and thinking of her past wasn't going to help. She had to keep an open mind and focus on the now and what was to come. So, she walked on, heading to another spot in the park highlighted by her guidebook.

Peace Park was almost smack in the centre of Inkopolis and the city's largest green space. Built on the location where the Octarian Army had been stopped and then pushed back, it was the scene of the most climactic battle of The Great Turf War a century ago. What had once been blasted landscape was now small hills of green, beautiful fountains, and memorials to those who fought and those who had died doing so. There were cycling paths, long winding foot trails, and wide avenues between the various plazas and monuments.

It was quite a popular spot too, as individuals, couples, and whole families could be seen everywhere one looked. Some borrowed sections of hillsides for picnics, some skated or cycled; others simply walked and enjoyed the mild weather before things started to get too cold. It all seemed hard to believe that this was the location of the most brutal battle of the war.

Eight opened her guidebook and found her next destination: The Granite List, a memorial with the names of all the inkling dead or missing from the battle. Again, it felt odd visiting memorials dedicated to "the other side" but she also found the history fascinating, and if she was trying to open her mind and find herself, then what better way than to dispel the propaganda and indoctrination still tainting her mind. She would never be able to love Three, the infamous Green Demon, properly with that getting in the way.

She followed another broad walk path away from the pyramid and on a gently winding path between the small hills all over the park. It was about a ten-minute walk before she reached the monument plaza, and she found herself stopping at the edge.

The Granite List was a series of walls made of polished granite, the veins of different minerals sparkling in the sunlight. The slabs were arranged in a circular pattern with gaps between the slabs to allow people to walk between them. The plaza itself was also circular while the others so far had been more rectangular, helping distinguish this particular place.

That wasn't all. The atmosphere was different. It was… quieter somehow. The laughter of children and the buzz of lively conversation were only very distant. The people around and within the monument seemed to be speaking very little. Some were placing flowers down on the raised concrete around each wall. Then she spotted an old Inkyar, roughly the same age as Captain Cuttlefish, dressed in a bright white uniform, a small handful of ribbons and medals adorning his chest and the very same type of white cap. He was a veteran of the war, perhaps even that very battle.

She watched him gently touch one of the names carved into the wall with an old shaking hand while a younger inkyora held onto his other arm as if to steady him. Eight understood his pain firsthand. Every Octarian knew loss.

Eight's toes pointed inward, her knees bent and she clutched her guidebook to her chest. She shouldn't be there. What would that old inkyar think if he saw her, an octoling, walking upon the sacred ground dedicated to his fallen comrades. One rule the Octarians had that Eight still held onto was that one did not disrespect the dead. Death was a constant in the domes and one had to respect those who died as much as those who lived. Back then, life had probably been even cheaper, for the Inklings too.

Eight turned and started to walk around the edge of the memorial. She would move on to another location. There was no need for her to be there, to stir up trouble, and she felt wrong being in that place.

As she passed a gap in the outer ring of walls, something caught her eye and she stopped.

It was an inkling girl about her age, wearing something similar to a dress but of a thicker material with long sleeves and a dark red colour that reminded her of the leaves changing colour around them. She was standing with her hands clasped behind her, staring up and down the columns of names on the wall. Her mantle kept shifting between multiple subdued shades, perhaps deep in thought. Eight couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something about this inkling was eerily familiar. And close!

Eight stopped suddenly as she realized she had walked within the outer ring, and now stood barely two meters from the inkling she'd been staring at. She looked around rapidly, checking to see if anyone was looking at her, but there didn't seem to be many people in line of sight and they were focused on the walls. She needed to get out while she could.

She took a step back and then the inkling girl suddenly whirled around, mantle flaring scarlet. The skirt of her dress swirled as she raised her arm, ready to deflect any incoming strikes, and Eight's amber orbs locked with a familiar pair of burning red ones.

"Three?" Eight's breath caught in her throat, unable to believe what she was seeing.

Three's mantle went from red to bright orange, eyes widening in surprise.

"Why are you here?" Three asked, her voice that beautiful, soft one she used from time to time when she wasn't acting as Agent 3. It elicited a pitter-patter feeling in Eight's chest.

"I-I was sightseeing, I suppose." Eight held up the guidebook. "I...I am sorry. I know I am not supposed to be here."

Three arched an eyebrow, her mantle turning yellow with waves of brown before it turned a solid orange, then cooled to her natural green. In her eyes there was understanding.

"I know how you feel," she said. "I know what's going through your head, but it's alright. There's no reason for you to go. This place remembers the Octarian dead too."

Eight perked up. "It does? But how could they know the names of all the dead?"

"They don't." Three made a sweeping motion with her hand, up towards the small ridge that surrounded and sheltered the memorial. "The remains of the octarian dead were buried here, under those hills. I know it doesn't seem like much, but as long as people come here, many of them will learn that fact and, in doing so, the Octarian dead will be remembered too."

Eight stared at the artificial ridge, seeing the grass and trees growing atop them. A minute ago they had seemed like any other hills around the battlefield. In fact, Eight initially would have thought they were standing in an old crater, but suddenly it had become so much more.

Three gestured for Eight to join her and she obeyed, walking up to stand next to her, staring up at the list of names. There were many. Literally, hundreds of names covered each wall. How long must it have taken to carve them all into the stone?

Three pointed to a name just above eye level: Galick Brink. "My great uncle," she explained. "On my father's side."

Eight's hearts nearly jumped out of her throat. Her great uncle? He had fought in the war? Died here? And she was talking about her family! Other than her mother and her iya's eggnancy status, Three never talked about her family and only did so when asked.

"I… I see." Eight was dumbfounded. She didn't know what else to say. What could she say?

"I have a feeling," Three began. "That if I heard the version of this battle you did, it wouldn't be the same as what I learned in school."

Eight wet her lips. "Most likely. I imagine I could say the same."

"I heard the true story from Gramps," Three said softly. "It wasn't nearly as glamorous as they made it sound. Even what I've been through doesn't seem to hold a candle to that battle. Looking at all these names, I doubt he was exaggerating. So many died on both sides."

"Yes," Eight agreed. She looked at Three, noticing the thoughtful expression on her face. "Is something bothering you? You look troubled."

Three flashed grey. "I just have a lot to think about. Look, I know I haven't been very good to you lately. I said I would do better but… I don't know how yet, alright?"

Three appeared to be visibly straining, as if merely the act of talking was taking tremendous effort. For some reason, that tickled a little giggle in Eight's chest, but she remained visibly serious.

"It is alright. I have not been doing very good either. I became more focused on myself and how I was than on you and what I should be doing to make you happy. I lost who I was and now I am trying to find myself again. I know that may sound odd but I do not know how else to explain it."

"No," Three said, looking a bit more relaxed. "I understand completely."

Eight looked at her, searching those red eyes as they stared up at the wall, reading one name after the other, and she realized that Three really did understand. She didn't know how she knew, but she did.

"This is something we have in common," Three said suddenly.

Eight blinked. "Excuse me?"

"We both understand what this wall really means. Every Octarian would know what this wall means, but most Inklings can't, even if they want to." She brushed her hand gently over the name of her great uncle. "The only inklings who do understand are the veterans who are left and the NSS. I think about it sometimes, but there aren't many people I can talk to it about."

She pulled her hand away, and her mantle turned a dark blue before she took another deep breath, speaking in a hushed whisper. "Sometimes it bothers me. I've killed a lot, Eight, and everyone I killed had a name, just like my great uncle did. I don't keep score but I know that there's a number in some computer in the cabin that would tell me how many lives I've ended. When I die, will the gods show me a wall like this with the names of everyone I've killed?"

Eight looked around, checking to see if anyone was listening in. This probably wasn't the best place to be talking about such things. That was unlike Three, who was normally so conscious of such things.

_She's unburdening herself._ Eight realized. _She's held onto this for so long and she's needed someone to tell it to._

Without thinking, Eight wrapped her arms around Three and held her. Forget thinking, she just knew that right now she needed to act, she needed to help.

"It's alright," she whispered in Octese. "I hold no grudge against you, you know that, and for every Octarian you killed, you freed a dozen more. You're my hero."

Three was very tense in her grasp and Eight felt her shudder a couple of times but she did relax slightly after a moment.

"You saved me too," Three reminded her.

"That doesn't make you any less my hero. Besides, saving each other is what friends and comrades do. We are _kith_, willing to fight and die for each other. That is a bond not easily forged or broken."

"Kith," Three echoed. "I don't think I ever used that word before."

"Yes. I do not know the equivalent in Inklish."

Three shrugged. "I don't think there is one. It means what you said and implies a kind of family too, doesn't it."

"Yes. Because, typically, an octoling's kith are the only family they really have. We are both fortunate to have more than that."

Three's flashed green in acknowledgement and Eight took her by the arm. "Come, let us go somewhere else. We can talk there." Without waiting, Eight started to pull. Three resisted just long enough to kneel down and pick something off the ground: her guidebook. Eight realized she must have dropped it when she hugged Three.

"Ah… thank you." Eight said, shyly accepting the book back. Three didn't say anything in reply, and Eight couldn't read her mantle so she simply resumed pulling, Three letting her lead.

As they neared one of the pedestrian avenues that connected to The Granite List, Eight spotted a trio of inkling girls in front of one of the walls just before they began to sing. It was a slow, soothing melody, even if the girls weren't particularly good to Eight's ears; however, there was still a soulful beauty to it.

"It's a lullaby," Three explained. "To help the dead sleep."

For once, Eight found herself as the one with nothing to say between her and Three. While the Octarians had always honored the dead and everyone said they were to be remembered, they didn't do much to actually remember them. Nobody sang songs to them, certainly, and memorials to the past were few and far between. All part of a policy of looking towards the future and only to the future.

_That hasn't worked out for me so far,_ Eight thought. Forgetting who she was and where she had come from was part of what caused her to lose her way in her relationship with Three. Without self reflection, she couldn't improve.

_Which is probably why Octavio kept losing. The only things from the past he remembers are grudges._

"Perhaps we should do something fun," Eight suggested. "Looking at memorials is nice but you seem down."

Three shrugged. "Not particularly. I'm just figuring things out, that's all."

"As am I," Eight smiled. "So we should figure things out together, yes?"

Three grunted and turned her head away. Her mantle turning a light blue tone. She actually looked shy, and that made Eight smile. She could feel some of the giddiness she used to have around Three returning, dancing around in her chest, and she felt some of her apprehensions float away.

"Where would you like to go?"

Three turned her head to face her again, an eyebrow raised in question. "Me?"

"I have spent too much time focused on myself lately. I would rather focus on someone else, especially you."

Three made a small throaty sound and looked away again. Yes, she was definitely shy. Eight couldn't help but find it adorable. This wasn't a side of Three she normally saw. This day had gotten very interesting indeed.

That painful twisting feeling refused to go away. It had been at its strongest when she had been speaking to Eight at the memorial. Now it was reduced to a dull ache, more of a distraction, but it still fouled her attempts to enjoy the situation.

Green Hills Raceway was outside of Inkopolis but still reachable by city bus. They sat at the top of the old wooden bleachers looking down while spectators gradually piled into the stands. It was windier than in the city, however, and Three had to tighten her collar to help abate the cold.

The cars lined up on the grid for the start of the latest heat, all in distinct colours with their numbers emblazoned in large print on the sides and roof, with the occasional sponsor's sticker. The one that stood out to her most was the car in 4th position, painted a solid gold colour.

As part of her journey to find herself, Three had been looking into her family history, but other than her father's side, there wasn't much she could learn, not with her iya and mother having not spoken to their families in decades. That left her mother's personal past to investigate and she started looking into activities her mother had enjoyed back then. One of which was what they were watching now: amateur rallycross.

The rules were simple: Three or four laps around a course that was part tarmac and part dirt or gravel, with one of those laps being a slightly longer "joker" lap. Each driver could choose which lap they wanted to take as the joker but they had to take it at least once.

According to her iya, her mother had loved watching these events and had even participated a few times with the predecessor to the car that Three had since inherited. The two of them had often come to such events to spectate and her iya would pretend to be interested, happy as long as she could spend time with the girl she liked.

That prompted Three to look to her right where Eight sat wide-eyed and fidgeting with anticipation. Clearly she didn't have to pretend to be interested. She wondered if Eight knew that her butt wiggled when she got excited. It was something she had noticed in the month since her rescue.

Neither of them had spoken since they reached the stands. Normally, that was fine with Three but she had been strongly encouraged to improve her ability to communicate. She felt proud she had managed to speak so much back at Peace Park but that anxious twisting feeling still resisted her attempts.

"Is this your first race?" She asked in a voice that was only slightly strained. She spoke in Octese because she felt she needed the practice and Eight would probably feel more comfortable speaking in her native tongue.

"Yes!" Eight said excitedly. "I've gone on touge runs but I've never seen a race with machines before. Back in the domes we used to race bugs, but that was all."

Three was saved from any further conversation when the light turned green and the air was filled with the roaring of engines and the spraying of mud as the cars left the gate into the first turn.

Three watched closely, trying to use what her Aunt Silvia and Aunt Clio had taught her to discern the nature of the individual cars as they went around the wide first turn.

The first thing she was able to do was tell the front-wheel-drive cars from the rear-wheel-drive cars. The former pulled themselves along around the corner and seemed better able to maintain control as they pivoted on their front wheels, while the latter kicked up rooster tails of mud and debris behind them, sliding around the turn at more of an angle but still able to maintain pace.

The front-wheel-drive cars, she was noticing, tended to be shorter and Aunt Clio had told her that made the cars rotate quicker, for better or worse. As a general rule, front-wheel drive cars understeered while rear-wheel-drive cars oversteered. Her mother's old car was both short and rear-wheel-drive, which made it very nimble but also tricky to drive fast without spinning out. Those longer wheelbase race cars out on the track seemed tail happy enough. It made Three anxious about the prospect of driving her mother's car herself.

"Look, look! Three, they're drifting, they're drifting!" Eight bounced in her seat bursting with excitement. "Look, look, that one passed!"

Three was glad Eight understood the actual concept of racing enough to enjoy even an unfamiliar one. She had to admit, this was quite a spectacle with all the dirt flying everywhere and the noise, but then the cars hit the tarmac and dynamic shifted.

With the added grip, the cars weren't sliding nearly as much and the sound of tortured rubber was added to the noise. The rear-wheel-drive cars, which seemed to have been more focused on just trying to stay on the track on the dirt sections, suddenly became much more aggressive, making bold moves on the turns. The gold car that Three had picked out at the start dove on the inside of a turn as the front-wheel-drive car in front of it understeered and went wide, bringing it alongside and putting it in an advantageous position as they went into the next corner, where it was able to take the inside line and put itself in front, securing third place just before the track became dirt again.

Directly ahead of the racers was the split in the track between a shorter, simpler route, and the longer, more twisted (and thus slower), route on the outside: the route one had to take on the joker lap.

The car in first place took the joker, diving in and narrowly missing the guardrail as it tried to take the chicane as quickly as possible. One other car followed it but the rest saved their joker, including the gold car that was now in second place.

"Is that the joker lap?" Eight asked excitedly. "They're doing it right away?"

"Different strategies, I guess." Three replied. She had to speak up a bit to be heard over the noise of the race and the crowd. The formerly first-place car came out of the joker lap in fifth onto another paved section, and then the cars crossed the finish line to begin the second lap.

The second lap was even more intense than the first, with each car fighting tooth and nail to gain a position or keep the one they had. Overall, the front-wheel-drive cars seemed more confident on the dirt while the rear-wheel drive cars were more confident on the pavement. Three wondered if things would be different with real, professional drivers behind the wheel.

Like an excited child, Eight clapped with each car passing and gasped when there was a bump or spin out. Three found herself smiling a little at her. She seemed so innocent, so free. Any problems she had been dealing with before seemed forgotten now, buried under the excitement and novelty of the moment. She envied that.

With each heat being less than ten minutes, the race was soon over. The original leader just barely managed to pull its way back into the lead while the gold car was able to keep third. The cars pulled off the track and into the pits while the next heat, a class consisting entirely of four-wheel drive cars, got ready to go.

"That was so exciting!" Eight exclaimed. "And that was only the first one. I can't wait to see what the rest will be like. I can't wait to see who wins!"

"I'm glad you're having fun," Three said, and she meant it.

"Are you having fun?"

"Yeah, just, a lot to think about."

"Ah." Eight neatly folded her hands on her lap. "That's right, you are trying to find yourself."

"Yeah… guess so." She didn't recall telling Eight that specifically. Maybe she had just guessed it, or maybe it was exactly what Eight herself was trying to do. Whatever the case, it made that tightness ache again and she had to fight to ignore it this time.

"Are you sure you don't mind spending time doing this? You're trying to figure things out too, right?"

Eight smiled, that sweet earnest smile that sometimes gave Three a fluttery feeling. "I can think of nothing better to be doing than spending time having fun with you."

Three felt her cheeks warm ever so slightly and that tightness wrenched in her again. _So annoying_, she thought of it.

"Oh, oh!" Eight started bouncing in her seat again. "The next heat's about to start!"

Three pulled herself out of her deep inner thoughts and decided she wasn't going to find any "fun things", as Callie had put it, if she didn't actually have fun, so she forced herself to ignore the annoying feeling and focus on the race.

The four-wheel-drives were completely different beasts to the previous classes. They could take the dirt turns faster, accelerate quicker on the dirt, but they did seem slightly heavier by the way they moved, not quite as light on their feet. It didn't seem to matter, however, as they were all getting faster lap times than the other two types.

_Or maybe they're just higher performance cars?_ She didn't know, she was just happy to have something else to focus on.

Once all the heats from the first round had ended and the winners moved up to the next round, Three and Eight went to get some food at the nearby confection stands. The queues were long, which normally annoyed Three greatly, but she was doing everything she could to try and stay positive. It was hard though.

As they waited in line, Three suddenly felt something grasp her hand and she looked down to see that Eight had wrapped her fingers around it, holding it. She looked up at Eight but Eight was still looking straight ahead and not meeting her gaze. Her cheeks were noticeably darker.

_She's nervous about this whole thing too,_ Three realized. _But she's still moving forward, going for it. I feel like such a coward._

The painful twisting feeling started up again but there was something different about it this time. Three didn't know how to explain it but she felt as though there was something else fighting it, trying to keep it at bay, like a bubble. Three didn't know what it was but it brought her a lot of relief, and she felt the tension in her body abate a little.

_I guess Callie was right. Doing fun things really is helping._ But perhaps it was also Eight that was helping. Three summoned what little social courage she had managed to accrue and nervously gripped Eight's fingers in return, her hearts beating like the pistons of the race cars.

They both got their food, a simple hot dog for Three and a cuban sandwich for Eight. They hadn't stopped holding hands, even after they returned to their seats in the bleachers. It was only once the excitement of the races began again that they finally released each other, leaving Eight free to woop in excitement and wave her hands about as the competition grew even more intense.

The races ended in the late afternoon. Eight looked exhausted, and even Three was a little bit tired. The racing had been pretty spectacular so she could understand the appeal it had for her mother and she found that she too could enjoy it. The fact that she could do so with someone else genuinely interested perhaps put her a bit ahead of her mother though.

"That was amazing!" Eight exclaimed. "We should definitely do this again."

"Y-yeah," Three replied more softly, remembering to actually speak her acknowledgement. She inhaled deeply and summoned still more courage. She could do this, she _had_ to do this. "Then… maybe we can go to Wahoo World before it closes for the winter? If we go during the week, there should be fewer people."

"Oh!" Eight jumped then began bouncing up and down like a hyperactive child. "I've always wanted to go there! You'll really take me?"

"Y-yes," Three managed to say. "Maybe the day after tomorrow?"

"Perfect! I have time in the middle of the day, about five hours."

"That… should be enough. Um, do you want me to escort you home?"

"I'd like that." Eight was beaming, smiling so brightly Three felt the urge to put on sunglasses. It sure was a pretty smile though.

That twisting feeling again, but this time it was easier to deal with. This time, she wasn't fighting it alone. At least, it didn't feel like it anymore.

_I'm beating this thing. Slowly, but I'm beating it._

Maybe it wasn't so much that she wanted to like Eight, maybe she actually needed to. She wasn't sure, but she was not going to be passive about the whole thing. If Eight could attack and push through it then so could she.

"Okay then."

Three reached out with her hand to try and take Eight's. It was so close, just a decimeter away. The twisting pulled at her, very aggressively this time, and this time, unfortunately, it won out. She just couldn't do it. Three had extended herself and her courage as far as she could. She would have to rest and resupply for the next offensive.

_But I will beat you._ Three vowed silently. _I won't let you control my life much longer._

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry this chapter was so late. A lot of things I had to deal with last week.

Considering how important the Great Turf War was, I'm sure there would be memorials made, considering how many were made for WW 1 and WW 2 in our own time. Trying to come up with some based on the war memorials that we have was tough but I think I made it work. I'm not completely sure the Pyramids would still be standing after another 12,000 years but I figured if any structures would, it would be them.


	9. Excitement and Ego

When Pearl had arrived home with Marina, Eight was already there making dinner, a bright smile on her face and practically dancing every step. Pearl swore she hadn't seen the girl's feet touch the ground once the whole time.

All three of them sat at the kitchen island eating Eight's very delicious pasta dish. She and Marina stared at Eight, stupefied as the young octoling energetically told them of the day she had. She talked so fast that Pearl only understood half of what she was saying. It didn't help that she occasionally reverted to Octese in her excitement.

"And then the gold car went around on the inside and got ahead of it! It was so exciting and there was so much more! There was another class of car after them that had all four wheels spinning so-."

Pearl couldn't recall Eight being like this, even during her first few days on the surface, not even when they were flying directly over Inkopolis itself. She was so excited and chatty that she hadn't touched her dinner at all.

"And then, after those two heats were over, we went for food and-."

"Eight!" Pearl's loud voice cut her off and the octoling fell suddenly silent. "I get that you had a super exciting day but we don't need a total play-by-play. Just give us the highlights and slow down so we can actually understand you, huh?"

Eight's face flushed sapphire and her tentacles curled inward. "M-my apologies."

"It's fine, just calm down a little." Pearl smiled and then glanced at Marina who was giggling at Eight's expense. Despite how big Marina was and how serious she could be, her giggles were rather cute and girly.

"Well," Eight resumed, "the racing was very exciting, and while there was a break, we went to get food. While we were in line I..." Her face flushed darker and she fidgeted. Despite her embarrassment her smile looked like the sort one couldn't wipe off their face no matter how hard they tried. "I… held her hand."

A pause and then Marina clapped once. "That's wonderful. You're making progress in your relationship?"

Pearl gave Marina a dubious look. Hand holding was no big deal; girls who barely knew each other could hold hands. Really, they should have been able to do that before Eight confessed. She was about to say as much when Marina looked in her direction. She was smiling and she had her eyes shut, but Pearl knew a glare when she saw one.

_Fine._ "That's good, Eight." She managed to say. "Is that why you've been walking on air? You finally got to hold Three's hand?"

"No, but I am glad I did it or the really good thing might never have happened!"

Pearl perked up and then grinned in Marina's direction. _Something better than hand holding, eh? See Marina? She won't get anything out of us being condescending to her._ Marina ignored her.

"So what happened?"

Eight shook her little fists excitedly and then shouted, "Three asked me to go with her to Wahoo World! We're going on a date!"

Pearl and Marina both leaned away. It wasn't like Eight to shout like that. Her amber eyes were wide and sparkling; her face flushed. She was high as a kite with joy. Marina, however, brought her down to Earth by placing her finger over her lips and quietly saying, "inside voice, Hachiko."

Eight blushed and shrank in her seat, embarrassed but still fidgeting with unspent energy. It was enough to make Pearl chuckle. Saying her real name was pretty much the equivalent of a parent using their child's first, middle, and last name, but less effort. Her excitement was understandable though; after over a month of getting basically nowhere, she was finally going on her first date.

"When are you going?" Pearl asked, calmly resuming her meal.

"Day after tomorrow; during the day." Eight's voice was still reverberating with excitement, even with an inside voice. Then she let out an excited squeal. "I cannot believe she asked _me._"

"I can't believe it either," Pearl said. "So, are you feeling prepared for it?"

Eight bit her lip, her excitement falling. "Well, not exactly. At least with her asking me, I do not have to take the lead. But even if I understand the theory of how to prepare for a date, I am unsure about actually going about it."

"You need an outfit," Marina agreed. "Probably nothing too flashy since I can't imagine Three would dress up much."

"Not in the way most people would expect, at least." Pearl grinned. "The day after tomorrow will probably be the last warm day before fall comes in hard, so you should wear something lighter than you normally would this time of year. An outfit that says, 'I wore this for you,' and that should get through even her thick head."

"She is not thick," Eight huffed, puffing her cheeks. "She is merely distracted and inexperienced in dating, as am I."

Pearl rolled her eyes and recalled some of The Wisdoms. _Love is blind alright._ "Whatever you say, Eight. Why don't you let us help you coordinate an outfit, make sure you go in all teeth bared. You want to make an impression on Three with this, really set yourself up to keep this relationship chugging along, and I think I have some hints as to Three's tastes."

Eight frowned. "You do? Just from ordering the outfit for that practical joke?"

Pearl grinned unashamedly at the memory. "Yeah, something like that. You just gotta' dress with a little attitude."

Eight's frown deepened and her tentacles twisted. "I do not understand."

Pearl waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. We'll help you."

Eight smiled and bowed her head. "Thank you."

Pearl shrugged. "Hey, we're family. That's what families do."

Eight nodded, her smile broadening. "Yes… family."

"Speaking of family," Marina began with a suggestive tone, causing Pearl's stomach to drop, "they texted me today, saying they would like us to visit and want to meet Hachiko."

Pearl groaned audibly, her mantle displaying blue with splotches of brown. "I'm busy. We've got the final splatfest coming up and-."

"We'll be busier after the splatfest starts," Marina interrupted. "And I already said we'd go."

Pearl gawked at her. "Why would you do that? What did I do? Whatever it is, I'm sorry, okay?"

Marina waved an admonishing finger at her. "You don't appreciate your family enough, Pearl. Besides, now that Hachiko has gotten used to the surface and since you are her legal guardian, it's about time she met your family. It would be very beneficial for her to learn first-hand about family dynamics, especially now that she's dating."

Pearl huffed. "It's not like she's getting bonded or married anytime soon."

"That's not the point." Marina's voice hardened and her gaze grew more intense. Pearl could see that Marina was not going to be swayed at this point.

"Fine," Pearl sighed and looked at Eight. "Sorry about this."

Eight frowned. "I do not understand. I am honored to have a chance to meet your family, that they want to meet me."

"Pearl's just being overdramatic," Marina said, and Pearl huffed. "They're actually very nice people and Jewel is one of the sweetest, most wonderful people I know."

Eight frowned. "Jewel?"

Pearl pulsed blue and leaned her head on her fist. "My mother."

Eight's eyes went wide, her tentacles flaring outwards in surprise. "Your mother? I'm going to meet your mother?"

"Well duh. She's probably the most eager to meet you and you can't really meet the family without meeting Mom. Anyway, that doesn't matter now, you need to focus on your date. Worry about anything else after. Right, Marina?"

Marina gave a nonchalant shrug that Pearl knew she did on purpose to annoy her.

_One of these days_, Pearl vowed.

"Is there something else I need besides my outfit?" Eight asked.

"A few things. What you need most is confidence. With that and the outfit we're gonna' pick for you, Three will be putty in your hands."

_I'm so stupid. Why did I ask her out?_

For the umpteenth time, Three groaned into her pillow. She lay on her stomach, face engulfed in what little fluff remained within the nearly threadbare pillowcase. It was practically flat now from years of use but at least she didn't have to worry about suffocating herself.

Perhaps it had been an act of desperation. Her uncertainty and guilt continued to plague her and was holding her back, not just in any kind of relationship with Eight, but in making any decision regarding her life's direction.

Three turned her head and looked at the flowchart she had made still sitting on her desk. There were more scribbles on it now, mostly highlighting progress or hindrances. She hadn't yet added today's results of actually asking Eight out. She wasn't sure if she could rightly call it a date. If things went badly, she might prefer not to.

Three faced back into her pillow and uttered a muffled cry. How disappointed would Eight be if she knew that she was so insecure? Her insecurity was something she was only now starting to identify and come to terms with, thanks to Callie's talk. But knowing she was going through something she thought she had gotten over years ago only added to the insecurities.

_I'm such a hopeless mess_.

She felt more like the person she had been before she had become Agent 3. A lonely, timid girl who lacked any life experiences, purpose, or self-worth.

Three clutched her head painfully. _But I've changed since then. I've gotten stronger, I'm not afraid to talk to anyone anymore. That's a good thing, right? _

She growled, her mantle turning burgundy with frustration. She felt like she was overthinking this.

She heard a knock and she flipped onto her back. Her iya stood in the doorway of her bedroom, a small bundle of clothes tucked under her arm.

"Everything alright, precious?"

Three pulsed blue. "Just an ordinary teenage crisis."

"Ah." Her iya nodded with understanding and stepped into the room, placing the clothes atop Three's dresser before sitting at the edge of the bed. "Identity crisis or love crisis?"

Three jerked, her mantle flashing to bright orange and then to a shocked yellow. _How?_

Her iya laughed. "You take a great deal after your mother, Cortina Dacia Scarletteri. With her, it was always one, the other, sometimes both at once."

Three shifted uncomfortably and then raised a cautious eyebrow as her mantle turned a deep earthy red. "So Mama went through this too?"

Her iya flashed green. "Most girls your age do. It's inevitable with the way life changes so quickly around that time. You're changing physically, your view of the world is changing, and your very way of life is changing, all at the same time. You can't grow up without changing, but changing so much in such a short amount of time can leave you a little lost."

Three pulsed green. "I don't really know who I really am anymore."

"I know." Her iya reached over and began gently rubbing Three's mantle. "Your mother said the same thing to me. It was around when we started dating.

"You see, your mother put on this tough exterior and liked projecting an image that she was supremely confident and not someone to be messed with. People like her don't like to appear vulnerable and when they feel vulnerable emotionally on a level stronger than they've ever felt before, that scares them."

"Like when Mama was eggnant with me?"

Her iya smiled. "Yes, something like that. It makes you question things about yourself. Makes you wonder who you really are, if you like the person you are. It was tough for Fulvia because she thought she had already gone through that when she left home. She thought she already knew who she was and what she wanted out of life. That was her teenage crisis; one of many, but certainly her biggest one."

"But you and Mama met years after that. What was Mama dealing with when you started dating?"

Her iya chuckled softly, her eyes growing soft and distant with nostalgia. "Well, I didn't exactly fit her image. She was a rebel, a tough, nail chewing road warrior. I was stocking shelves and working tills at a grocery store and I liked to read romance novels. She was worried about what people might say or think of her if she started dating someone like me, especially her rivals."

"Like Auntie Silvia?"

Her iya's mantle rippled with bright yellow and waves of blue. "Yes, like Silvia. The mountain queens were all about image and ego, your mother included. Somehow, and I'm still not sure why, she didn't refuse me, she just kept putting off giving me a real answer when I told her I really liked her."

_Well at least I didn't make that mistake._ Three thought, and silently thanked her father for whichever of his genes was responsible for that.

"So how did she end up figuring out she loved you back?"

Her iya grinned nefariously, an expression Three had seen on her only very rarely. She shifted into a sitting-up position, her mantle light orange with anticipation.

"I used a little reverse psychology on her. I saw that she was trying to turn me down gently, which hurt, until I realized that she couldn't bring herself to actually do it. Basically, I figured out that she actually liked me back, just that she was more worried about her image. So, I dumped her instead."

Three's eyes went wide and her mantle flared bright-orange in shock. "You what?"

"I stopped her mid sentence and told her to never mind. I said I was disappointed that she turned out not to actually be the person I thought I liked. I told her I liked her because I thought she was someone who followed her own road in life, blazing her own trail, a strong and capable leader. But, it turned out she was just a follower after all, too afraid of what others thought of her to risk hurting her delicate little image, a fraud."

Three grimaced. "I bet that made her mad."

Her iya laughed. "Furious. She grabbed me and yelled in my face that she wasn't worried about her image, that she really was as tough as I had thought, and that just to prove it, she would date me."

Three arched an eyebrow. "She fell for it that easily?"

"Ego tends to have an adverse effect on one's intellect and self-awareness."

"And what about Mama? Did she change after that? Did she really become that person?"

Her iya nodded. "And more. She had her flaws, especially as a girlfriend, but she worked hard to improve herself, which was pretty handy once we started looking for a mate." She chuckled. "Well _I _started looking. She was too nervous, but at least she admitted it that time."

She looked Three in the eye and lifted a finger. "'_If you want to improve, you must be content to be thought foolish and stupid_.' That's what The Wisdoms tell us and I know from experience that it's absolutely true. The Precursors left them for us for a reason."

Three flashed green. "So… you're saying that I'm having a crisis because what I really want is clashing with my ego?"

"Maybe. There's certainly a battle for dominance going on." She smiled. "Or, knowing you and your mother, you might just be shy."

Three's mantle flared again before cooling to a darker shade of orange. "Shy?" She couldn't hide the disbelief in her voice.

"Oh yes." Her iya rubbed her head. "You've always been shy and introverted, even as a little girl.

"You would do all kinds of dangerous things like climbing tall trees, doing stunts on the play structures, or riding your bike recklessly." She pulsed a darker blue. "Honestly, you took a few years off our lives with all those antics." Three grimaced and pulsed white with apology. "But, the moment some other kids came around, obviously attracted by your daring deeds, you'd hide behind one of us and look anywhere but at them."

Three pouted, her mantle rippling dark violet as she crossed her arms. Her iya pulsed grey unapologetically.

"That's why we were all so proud of you when you were finally able to sing on stage. Your mother was in tears."

Three let out a long breath, trying to let out the embarrassment she felt and then turned her mantle yellow with purple spots. _So? What does that have to do with what we're talking about?_

Her iya's smile turned into a mischievous grin. "Well, who is she?"

Three's mantle flashed neon orange and yellow spots appeared. Her iya giggled.

"Didn't I just tell you what I went through with your mother? What else could it be? Besides, girls that grow up in _epeso _families like ours tend to look for a bondmate before a mate."

Three buried her face in her hands. She couldn't believe it. How had she been so easy to read that her iya could have so easily gleaned so much information? Was she really that much of an open book? What else did she know that Three thought was still a secret? Did she know how many times she had lied? The thought made Three's stomach knot.

Her iya chuckled and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Honey, it was going to happen sooner or later. I'm just happy you found someone to be interested in."

"She confessed to _me_," Three argued. "I didn't ask for it."

"But you like her too, don't you?"

"I… don't know. I do like her but not really like that. At least not yet."

"Not yet?" Her iya laughed. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I think I want to like her but something gets in the way." Three couldn't stop the anger and irritation creeping into her voice and her mantle darkened to burgundy.

"What might that be?"

Three sighed audibly. She couldn't exactly tell her iya that she felt guilty for slaughtering hundreds of Eight's people and even trying to kill her at one point. Maybe there was another way she could spin it.

"I… never got along with her old shoal. She doesn't hang out with them anymore. She's good now, but… I cost her a lot of old friends."

"Ah, I see. Yes, that does happen sometimes. She must really like you then."

Three's cheeks darkened slightly. "Maybe, but I think she was trying to get out of that crowd before she met me. Even so, they're not bad people, per say, just… misguided."

Her iya pulsed blue, her smile turning bittersweet. "It doesn't matter, sweetheart. She obviously made a choice to leave, you didn't force her. I don't blame you for feeling bad, but you really shouldn't; you can't be held responsible for other people's choices. Maybe those friends weren't as close as you think they were. Maybe you actually gave her the way out she was looking for."

Three's mantle turned a deep blue as she contemplated. True, Three, Callie, and Marie had given a great many octolings the opportunity to get out of the Octarian army and try to leave the domes. Eight herself had also later helped in blazing that trail through the metro. Still, there was no way Eight could be happy about the fact that Three was still going about killing octolings. She wasn't sure how to communicate that to her iya in a way that didn't reveal her secret though.

Her iya shuffled closer and pulled Three into a sideways hug, nuzzling her affectionately. "If you really feel so bad about it, I think you should talk with her about it. Holding in things like that doesn't help a relationship, honey, it only makes things worse. If you want to form a relationship, you have to be able to trust each other, and you can't trust each other if you feel you can't talk to each other about things like this."

Trust, everything seemed to be coming down to trust, and bitingly, Three realized that the issue was on her end, not Eight's. The ball was in her court. Well, maybe by asking Eight on a date, she had knocked it back into play.

"We're going on our first date the day after tomorrow."

Three barely finished her sentence before her iya squealed like a teenager and gave her a tight squeeze. "Oh, baby girl, I'm so happy for you!"

Three wriggled and her gill slits flapped as she struggled to breathe. "Iya, the eggs, the eggs!"

"Oh, they're fine," she said, relaxing her grip and bringing one hand down to gently pat her abdomen. "They're happy too."

Three pouted, her mantle turning violet-red with indignation. "Is it that big a deal?"

"It is for you, my little wallflower. Oh, you've grown so much."

She gave Three another squeeze and then finally let her go.

"Do you have an outfit picked out? Where are you going?"

"Wahoo World, and yeah, I know what I'll be wearing. No, it won't be anything sloppy."

Her iya laughed. "Alright, alright, I won't pry further, but will I at least get to meet her?"

Three felt that twisting in her gut again. She was always worried about her family mixing with those from the other half of her double life - or even triple life, depending on how one looked at it. Still, if Eight did end up as her girlfriend then she would have to introduce her to her parents sooner or later.

"Maybe soon," Three replied. "I don't know. She's kinda' busy. It probably won't be before Splatfest ends."

"Ah," her iya flashed green. "I think I can understand that. I've seen the ads for that all over TV. So, what's her name?"

Three's mantle turned blue with brown splotches. "Hachiko."

"Hachiko? That's an unusual name. Pretty though."

Three found herself smiling. "I think she said the same about my name."

Her iya grinned. "Oho, did she now? And what's that smile for?"

Three flared orange and turned away, forcing a frown. "I'm not smiling."

"Oh yes you are." Her iya shifted and started tickling her face. "Yes you are, yes you are."

"Iya, stop."

"Not until you smile."

"N-no, stop!" But Three couldn't help herself as her iya started tickling her mercilessly. Within seconds, her giggles filled the upstairs.

**Author's Notes:**

The Wisdom that Purdie quotes is from Epictetus, a Greek philosopher. I thought it quite apt.

Chapter 10 is coming next and it's a doozy because it's going to be Eight and Three's first date. It's a long chapter and the one I've had to rewrite the most. I hope you all look forward to it.


	10. Whirlpool

Three stood next to a mastlight, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. She didn't lean against it, not wanting to dirty the clothes she had chosen for her first real date. Nothing fancy, just her best fitting t-shirt, but she did mix it up a little by wearing a short skirt over black tights. Save for her running shoes, none were useful for turf war, and she hoped that quality was enough to show Eight that she did care enough to put in some effort. She was even wearing mantle gloss.

The sun was high and bright, providing Inkopolis with the warmest day of the month and possibly the last warm day before Autumn took firm hold. This was obvious from the crowd, as Wahoo World was even busier than normal. From her position between the entrance pathway and the parking lot she got a good view of the crowd and the long queues to get in. Still, it wasn't as bad as Inkopolis Square on weekends.

Three looked at the analog clock at the entrance. It was nearly ten o'clock, the time she and Eight had arranged to meet. Originally, Three had wanted to come earlier and miss some of the initial crowd but Eight had explained she needed the extra time in the morning to finish some of her chores. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Eight had a job.

Her right ear twitched as she heard rapid footsteps approaching. She turned her head and Eight slowed to a stop in front of her. "I am sorry to have kept you waiting," she said, panting a little. "Chores took longer than expected."

Three took a second to look Eight up and down. She was dressed in a cropped, fiery red top that was almost like a jacket. It left her shoulders and collar exposed. It had small sleeves that were more like hoops for her arms and the rest of the top was held in place by a pair of shoulder straps the way it held firm to her chest. Below that she wore tight-fitting jeans and her familiar turf war sneakers.

Three knew virtually nothing about dating and had almost no experience at all, but she had heard Callie and Marie complain plenty of times about their own experiences. Thus, she knew what it was she was supposed to do at this moment.

"It's okay. Um… you look… cute. It's a… nice outfit." She wasn't just saying that either, it was a very nice outfit and quite pleasing to the eyes.

Eight blinked and appeared stunned for a moment before her face warmed and her front two tentacles parted and drew back before returning to their natural position. "Thank you."

Three's hearts skipped and she turned her head away, heat rising to her cheeks. "S-sure. So, let's go."

They walked together to the entrance and stood in line. In front of them was a male and female couple. Three observed the girl constantly rubbing her hip and rear against her date, who smiled back at her big enough but even Three could tell that smile was forced. _Seriously, girl, calm down._ She honestly felt sorry for the poor guy and wondered if this was some kind of pity date.

She looked to her right and noticed that Eight was also observing them. Three grabbed onto the back of Eight's head with her tentacle and pulled her close to whisper to her in Octese.

"Don't do that. That girl's coming on way too strong and that guy isn't as happy as he looks." She saw Eight's cheeks warm. She had clearly been thinking about it.

"Understood."

Eventually, their turn came up and Three stopped Eight when she reached for her wallet. "I'll pay." She stepped up to the window and held up two fingers. "Two full-day passes, please."

The purple jellyfish behind the window placed two light-blue bands on the counter and rang up the till. "Two-hundred gees please."

Three winced. That was more expensive than she thought it would be, and she heard Eight hiss air through her beak, clearly having a similar reaction. That amount would be a decent down payment on a new weapon.

Three pulsed grey and took out her credit card. She rarely used it but it was useful for large purchases like this.

Their bands paid for, they moved up and then slipped the bands on their wrists. She did note some apprehension on Eight's part. She had worn similar bands back in the Metro, if Three recalled correctly.

Three took her hand and pulled her gently. "Don't worry. This place will ink over those old memories."

Eight felt her hearts flutter as Three took her hand. How had Three known what she was thinking? Three was so cool it was hard to imagine she would be bothered by such trivialities as the medical bands she had worn in the metro. She had forgotten how liberating it felt to finally remove them after arriving in Inkopolis.

She let Three lead her through the covered entranceway. When they stepped out into the sunlight, all dark memories of her past were banished instantly.

Eight had purposefully avoided looking up too much information about Wahoo World so that she could experience the full wonder of being there for the first time. She had turf warred in Wahoo World, technically, but the turf arena was somewhat isolated from the rest of the park, so she was not quite prepared for the sheer amount of activity around her.

Rides like the roller coaster and Ferris wheel were things she had only seen from a distance. Now that she was up close, she saw how big they really were. The Ferris wheel was nearly as tall as Pearl and Marina's whole condo building and the roller coaster was nearly as tall as that, at least a dozen stories on its own, before descending down twists and turns at high speed. Just the sight of it made her stomach lurch but she couldn't wait to ride it.

The biggest thing, however, was the atmosphere. The bustling crowds, the noise of people and machines; there was even music playing from hidden speakers. Everyone was trying to enjoy this last lovely day before things got too cold. Eight didn't know where to begin.

"You want to go on some rides or look around first?" Three asked her. "I mean, I guess we can do both at once, but-."

"Let's do that!" Eight shouted excitedly. She couldn't help but bounce a little on the balls of her feet. Three didn't smile but she did start leading her deeper into the park and Eight couldn't wait to see where she would lead her first.

The first ride Three took her to was an umbrella-shaped machine with rows of seats dangling from the underside of the canopy. As the machine spun the seats were pushed outwards, or rather, inertia forced them there. Three described it as a warmup ride.

For Eight, it was a wonderful feeling. It almost felt like flying and she wished for a version that would let her lie on her stomach for an even more visceral experience.

Once that ride was over, Three took her to a ride called "Scrambled Eggs 1", a device with Three arms spouting from a stout central axle, each with a vertical axle with three seats sticking out sideways and rotating around it. Each axle spun, creating a sense of rapidly speeding up and slowing down. But, since it was constantly spinning, the person on the outside got crushed by anyone on the inside and Three insisted that she be the one in that position. Eight couldn't decide whether the ride or being crushed against Three was more thrilling.

As they explored the park and ride after ride, Eight was understanding the logic behind the armbands. It was a free pass to as many rides as they could get in a day, which, if one rode enough, was cheaper than paying for each individual ride or for the equivalent number of tickets.

After coming off a Swinging Ship and a Log Flume, among many other rides, Eight started to feel hungry and suggested taking a break for lunch. Three said that it was unwise to have lunch and then go on the especially intense rides, because you risked vomiting that much more. Eight didn't want to go through that if she could help it so decided to wait until she at least rode the roller coaster.

The queue for the roller coaster was long, probably the longest of any ride in the park. People in mascot suits tried to keep those waiting entertained as they waited but it was still almost an hour before they were finally able to mount the ride.

They were second in line but the two people in front of them went right for the back of the train, while Three guided them towards the front. For Eight, climbing into the roller coaster car felt almost like getting on a little train. They were following a similar principle after all: cars on a metal track.

"The front has a better view but the back is more intense," Three explained.

Eight didn't reply. She was too excited, wondering what was going to happen, what it would feel like. She knew it was fast and heard they could be scary, but she didn't care. Surely it couldn't be that bad, not after what she had been through.

In spite of those feelings, when the restraints came down and the train started to move, she started to feel anxious. A part of her realized she was now trapped. There was no escape, she had to ride it on to the end.

As the train began its ascent up the steep incline to the top of a long drop, she grabbed onto Three's arm tightly.

"Hold onto the restraints," Three told her, speaking up to be heard over the clanking noise of the chain pulling their train up the hill. Eight compromised by grabbing the restraints with one hand and keeping hold of Three with the other.

They reached the top and the nose of their car rolled over the top. Eight saw the bottom of the hill and felt her stomach plummet when she realized how far down it was. A second later, the rest of her followed.

Three stayed close behind Eight as the octoling staggered away from the roller coaster and into the nearby gift shop. She soon stopped and held herself against the wall, visibly shaking, probably from an excess of adrenaline. Wahoo World's roller coaster was intense even for regulars; probably a lot for someone new to coasters to handle.

"You okay?" She asked quietly.

Eight nodded. Three was relieved to see her smiling. "That was amazing! I do not think I will ever forget this experience as long as I live."

Three remembered her first time on a roller coaster, her mother sneaking her past an inattentive operator because she wasn't tall enough for the ride. The memory brought a small smile to her lips, even the part where her iya became furious with her bondmate for that reckless action.

Eight pointed to a small kiosk where they were selling people prints of on-ride photos, and even frames. "I want one. I should make sure to get a digital one too so that I can share it with Pearl and Marina and Four."

"No," Three said hastily. Eight gave her an odd look, prompting Three to explain. "They send you the photo through your email. But now they have your email address which means you'll get sent ads all the time. Spam."

"Oh…" Eight's voice trailed off. "Well, between the two, I would rather have the print anyway. Thank you, Three."

Three pulsed grey. "It's fine."

Five minutes later, they had their ticket to retrieve the print. They would pick it up when they left. After all, they didn't want to be carrying around a fragile photo while they went on rides.

They dodged puddles of vomit on the pathway beyond the roller coaster and Three found herself glaring at the handyman uselessly cutting grass nearby when there was puke to clean off the paths.

From there, she suggested they take the train to the food court. It would give Eight's stomach and nerves a chance to settle after the roller coaster and she would be able to see other parts of the park. Eight agreed eagerly and minutes later they were sitting side by side in the scaled-down faux-steam train. The seats were wide enough for three people but Eight seemed determined to stay close. Three generally preferred her personal space, and that nagging twisting feeling was now rearing its very ugly and unwelcome head.

_She's not used to this. She needs me to be with her because she'll be nervous otherwise. She needs my support. She trusts me._ That was the excuse she told herself to not push Eight away and abate the nagging feeling somewhat.

After they disembarked from the train they headed towards the food court. The myriad of smells wafting into their nostrils from what was clearly one of the busiest parts of Wahoo World. Not far away was the turf war arena, no doubt also quite busy with the warm weather.

Three stopped when she felt a tug at her arm. She turned her head and found Eight standing very close to her, their faces barely forty centimeters apart. She looked at her with big earnest eyes, cheeks lightly flushed.

_What is she doing? Is she going to do or say something? Out here? In front of everyone?_ Three looked around rapidly, taking note of all the people around. Nobody was looking at them but that would soon change if they made a scene.

"Three," Eight whispered.

She swallowed. "Wha-what?"

"I… need to use the washroom."

Three felt all the tension in her body release, like someone letting go of a party balloon. _Idiot, getting worked up for nothing. What's wrong with you?_

"Over there." Three thrust her chin out towards the squat building on the edge of the food court, just a short distance away. "I'll wait here for you."

Eight nodded and hurried off to the building while Three folded her arms and waited.

It wasn't the most ideal place to stand, but with the bathroom so close to the main thoroughfare of foot traffic it was difficult to avoid people. Every time a ride ended and people got off there was a brief influx of people and Three soon found herself caught at the edge of two such influxes converging and dodging around each other.

Three dodged one person, only to brush against another going the opposite direction and tried to get out of the crowd. Then someone slammed into her particularly roughly and Three cursed silently as she staggered away, quickly regaining her balance and turning around to see who had bumped into her so hard, she found her hearts stopping.

Her eyes beheld an octoling with yellow tentacles. She was older than Eight by at least two years and her light blue eyes were still, as if she had frozen mid-thought. But Three recognized her face, stirring the bitter memory from the back of her mind when she had shoved an octoling off on a tower control match. It was the same girl.

The octoling's eyes focused on her and went wide as saucers. Her tentacles seemed to shrivel and the colour drained from her face. Three wasn't unaccustomed to this reaction, it was typical for octolings to react this way to her. It always gave her time to act first.

Her right hand reached for her hero shot but it clawed only air. Of course, she wasn't on the battlefield, she was in the middle of Wahoo World, surrounded by people - her people, and she was wearing her natural colour. And, this octoling recognized her.

_Barnacles_. She cursed.

The octoling started to cry, her legs buckling beneath her until she collapsed to the ground, leaning away. "P-p-please…. Please don't," she croaked through tears.

Three's mantle turned yellow with a mix of puzzlement and panic. The girl was going to make a scene at this rate. Already people were stopping and looking on with concern. They were holding off involvement for fear of intruding, for now, but if things kept going that would probably change. She needed to stop things from getting out of hand.

"Calm down," she said, but her voice came out weak and soft, barely audible to her own ears over the tumult of the theme park. _Get it together, _she chided herself. This isn't a time to be breaking, this'll be trouble if it's not handled quickly!

The octoling held up an outstretched hand between them, shuffling fearfully away as she started to chant.

"Don't hurt me, please. I'll be good, I'll be good."

Three grunted. "Listen, I'm not-." Suddenly, she saw Eight's image laid overtop that of the octoling on the ground. Amber eyes full of terror, her tentacles pale and shriveled with submission and fear, just like in her nightmares.

Three felt her knees go weak, threatening to give out beneath her; her breath became short and her hearts began beating rapidly. She felt a chill, like icy claws on her shoulders, and her mantle darkened. It was like one of her nightmares being made manifest, only worse because she was being exposed in front of one of the busiest places in Inkopolis.

She had to do something, she needed to think, but her mind was such a storm of thoughts and emotions that she was in a borderline panic. Should she run? No, if she just left things like this it would leave lingering questions, and suppose the octoling told everyone what and who she was, the NSS could be ruined. She wished Callie or Marie were there. Somehow they always knew what to do.

_Come on you idiot, think, do something, anything!_

"Three!"

Three was yanked from her whirlwind of inner thoughts and mild panic, and nearly screamed when she saw a familiar pair of amber eyes in front of her face and took a step back.

Eight stood between her and the other octoling girl who had finally fallen silent. She looked at her worriedly, tentacles curled inwardly.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

Three's breathing was still rapid, and her skin felt warm. She could only imagine what she looked like to everyone else. She managed a green flash, feeling too breathless to speak. Seeing that, Eight then whirled on the octoling girl on the ground and stomped towards her.

"Get up!" Eight snapped at her in Octese. "What are you doing? Is this how your splatoon was trained? Deal with adversity by writhing and sniveling on the ground like a worm on a skillet?"

Eight grabbed the girl's outstretched hand and hauled her roughly to her feet. From there, Eight spoke so quickly and sharply that Three could barely understand a word. Honestly, she was a little stunned. She had never seen or heard Eight speak so harshly or seen her so angry.

She flinched a little as she felt someone gently lay a hand on her head. She looked to the right to see an Inkyora of about forty standing next to her smiling gently with concerned eyes, her mantle a soothing blue colour.

Another inkyora about ten years younger appeared on the other side of her, and the two began gently stroking her mantle and tentacles. Combined with their blue hue, it was exactly the soothing sensation Three needed to gather her wits.

The other spectators seemed to be breaking up, a few staying to watch the spirited, if one-sided, interaction between the two octolings. They were still a novelty to most people in Inkopolis and seeing two of them interacting like this was bound to attract some interest. For Three, it felt like Eight had just defused a bomb.

Eight soon calmed but she kept her arms crossed, her tentacles curled irately as the other octoling girl finally began to speak. Three couldn't hear what was said and she couldn't read her lips, but she seemed to have recovered a little, more bewildered than afraid now.

Once Three had finally calmed, she displayed a gentle green of thanks and the two inkyora released her, each giving her an affectionate pat on the head before they left and went about their business. The older one returned to a pair of impatient looking children and a somewhat concerned inkyar of the same age.

Three returned her gaze to the octolings just in time to see Eight hand the other girl what appeared to be a business card. Eight then leaned in to whisper something to her that made the other girl pale slightly before she nodded and scurried off.

Eight sighed then returned her attention to Three, eyes full of concern. She walked up to her and looked right into her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

Three felt knives of guilt, humiliation, and indignity stab into her gut. She was the one supposed to be asking that question. The idea she needed rescuing from such a silly situation was enough to give her ego a serious pounding. She had been like a little girl that had scraped her knee and been wailing, waiting for someone-anyone, to come and help make the boo-boos go away. The comparison filled her with self-loathing and bitterness.

She simply flashed green and Eight seemed to accept that. "It seems rather crowded here. Perhaps we should try another ride and wait for the food court to clear up a bit before trying to get some food."

That suited Three just fine. Getting food would just mean standing in line for ages together and then sitting together eating, awkward conversation and silence the whole time. Going on a ride would at least occupy them both for a time, hopefully, long enough for Three to mentally pick herself off the ground.

Wahoo World's Ferris wheel was one of Inkopolis' famous landmarks. Although she had seen many taller and more complex structures, Eight still found it impressive and yet more proof that Inklings, if they applied themselves, were capable of superb examples of engineering. She wondered what kind of view they would have at the top.

"Have you ever ridden on this before?" She asked her inkling companion, but Three only responded with a simple green flash.

Ever since that odd incident with the other octoling, Three's expression had been dark and moody; and she hadn't spoken since.

Eight's beak clenched with frustration. Things had been going so well. Three had invited her here, had been talking with her, they had been having fun on rides together. Now, after that incident, she had relapsed back into aloofness and silence.

She knew it couldn't be all her fault. It was perfectly understandable that she would be upset with what happened, but why did she have to be given the cold shoulder? Couldn't she confide and relax with her just a little? It wasn't as if it was her fault, was it? If it was, she would appreciate it if Three would actually tell her how.

Eight's resentment abated somewhat when, at last, they came next in line and the ride operator opened the plexiglass oval pod to let them inside.

It was just tall enough to let them stand up straight with bench seats on either side just long enough for two people to sit side by side or across from each other.

The door clicked shut and the two of them sat down on the same bench facing the inside of the Ferris wheel as it moved to bring the next pod into the station.

Time stretched as their pod gradually moved higher and higher. The silence grew more and more awkward and unbearable with every minute.

Eight glanced over at Three, but the inkling's mood didn't appear to have improved. She sat hunched over with her arms folded over her legs, eyes focused inwardly.

_She's acting like I'm not even here._ Eight could feel a bubble of anger rising in her but she suppressed it. The incident had started while she was still using the bathroom so maybe there was more to what happened than it seemed. _I won't know unless I ask, I guess._

Eight forced herself to appear as collected as possible, taking a deep breath to help calm herself. The frustration simmering inside her refused to be ignored but, for now, she managed to keep it just beneath the surface. Barely.

"Three," she began gently. "I don't know exactly what happened with that girl, but I'm sure it would help to talk about it. You know you can talk to me about anything."

Three moved her arms slightly, and Eight thought she could see movement behind her crimson eyes. Three bit her bottom lip and seemed as though she might speak, but then she let her lip go and turned away, her back sagging even further.

Eight's bubble of frustration, anger, and impatience finally surfaced and then popped. She leaped to her feet, jostling the pod and making Three flinch away at the sudden movement. Eight glared down at her, fists clenched, beak bared, and eyes burning amber fire.

"Why do you always brush me off?" She shouted furiously! "Almost every time I try to help you, every time I try to get you to open up and reveal your problems to me, you turn me away like that. Am I not good enough for you? Did the high and mighty Agent 3 just not have the guts to turn me down properly and decided to string me along by throwing me some chum every now and then?"

Three stared back at her, open-mouthed, her mantle a storm of bright oranges, reds, and dark yellows. "What? No, I-I just didn't want to-."

"Just didn't want to talk about it," Eight finished for her. Her tone was scathingly sarcastic. "You never want to talk about it. I do not mind that you are quiet or never talk, but you barely communicate with me at all! The other day, we had so much fun, you were even talking to me. Now you clam up because of some random octoling and it is ruining our date, a date _you_ asked _me_ out on, but you are acting like it is somehow my fault that things are going wrong."

Three's mantle flared red and she too jumped to her feet, standing to face Eight square on, her crimson eyes blazing with equal intensity. "You don't know what it's like to have people thinking you're a monster. I told you before that I didn't want to be treated like one in my own city! Some random octoling bumps into me, recognizes who I am just when I'm trying to have my first date, and suddenly everyone's looking at me like I'm some kind of freak, wondering what could have made a girl like that almost spontaneously splat just looking at me."

She inched closer, her face blue with fury, but Eight didn't budge. "Do you have any idea what it's like to go through life always worried someone is going to uncover your secrets, find out things you've really done, discover what a monster you are? With every new octolings that comes to Inkopolis I have to worry about another one recognizing me and freaking out, and every time that happens is a chance for Inkopolis to find out exactly who and what I am and what I've done."

"You freed hundreds of us!"

"And do you think that makes up for the hundreds that I've killed? The hundreds I'll probably kill in the future? Do you know what happened when that girl ran into me? She was on the ground, looking at me, terrified, pleading for her life, and the first thing I did was reach for my gun!" Three's body shuddered and Eight's expression softened as she thought she saw tears glistening at the corners of Three's blazing eyes.

"I saw an octoling, in Inkopolis, unarmed, and looking helpless; and the first thing I did was try to make sure I was in a position to kill her."

Eight clenched her jaw. "That is just combat instinct. What does that have to do with how you have been treating me?"

"Don't you get it?" Three held out her arms. "It's not just other octolings, it's you too! I trust you with my life and I've never regretted it, but you're always acting like you're scared I'll do something to you. Maybe I will. What if my combat instincts hurt you someday? Sparring is one thing, but normally, if I see octolings or octarian tentacles, I freak out!"

Three stepped back, wiped her eyes on the back of her arm, and spoke again, this time her voice soft and surprisingly brittle. "I see those tentacles in my nightmares. I've seen the face every octoling I've ever killed replaced with your face, your eyes, your voice. It's not you I don't trust, Eight, it's me!"

Eight's posture relaxed and she stood up straighter. Her frown remained but it softened somewhat, and her eyes grew less intense. "Why didn't you ever tell me? You were experiencing all these things and you never told me."

Three's fists shook at the end of ramrod-straight arms and then she looked away.

"Do not dare go silent on me now," Eight growled. "I deserve to know!"

"I WAS SCARED!"

Eight stepped back, not prepared for Three's powerful outburst, nor the tremendous power in her voice that shook the walls of their pod. She put her hands up in a defensive gesture and swallowed nervously. Only then did she realize that Three was crying.

She had to do a double-take. She couldn't believe it. Not even when her mother's car had been vandalized had she cried and never had Eight even heard of Three looking so vulnerable.

Three collapsed to her knees and Eight hurried to her, kneeling down in front of her and gently placing hands on either side of her head.

"Three?"

The inkling lifted her head, tears streaming down her face in broad streams. To Eight, it was probably the most shocking thing so far. Seeing Three crying, seeming so small and fragile, so… vulnerable.

"I'm always scared," Three said, letting her face fall. "The first time I did turf war I hardly fired my weapon. I tried to run from every encounter and my team yelled at me about how useless I was. After that, I wanted to never do turf war again; I just wanted to go back home, crawl under my covers and never come out."

Eight nodded slowly, finally coming to an understanding. "That is why you resisted my attempts to get to know you better. You were afraid I would find out about… this…"

Three gave a tiny shrug. "I maybe. I don't like talking about myself, so I don't ask other people about themselves much either. I just figure it's fair."

Eight sighed. "I know that it sounds considerate, but it is actually quite rude and even abrasive. Doesn't it get exhausting putting up that tough exterior all the time?"

Three tried in vain to wipe her eyes clear and her voice cracked when she responded. "Sometimes. I don't have to in front of Callie and Marie, but in front of Four, Gramps, and everyone else, they expect me to be a certain way, they expect me to…" She trailed off and Eight nodded.

"They expect you to be Agent 3," she whispered. "And you were not sure who you were supposed to be to me."

"Maybe a little of that," Three agreed. "I tried opening up, I really did, but it's just so hard. Since Mama died, I've never opened up to anyone except Callie and Marie, and that was an accident. At least with Four, I can treat her like a little sister so she expects me to act the big sister."

"Which fits your role as Agent 3 and senior agent perfectly well," Eight agreed. "Yes, I am beginning to understand."

She removed a handkerchief from one of her pockets, grateful she had followed her maid training in always keeping one on her person. She used it to lightly dab at Three's face and wipe the tears away.

"But Three, you still should have spoken to me about these sorts of things. Even if you did not tell me everything, we could have gradually come to understand one another better and overcome the problems between us. Besides, your current condition is dangerous if that incident earlier was enough to freeze you up."

"I know that," Three said, a little angrily. "But I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it." She pouted. "I'm not supposed to need rescuing from silly situations like that. How can it be that Agent 3 fought an entire army but gets tripped up by one helpless octoling?"

Eight found herself giggling a little. "Well, you should be used to me rescuing you by now."

"If it was just her, I could have dealt with it," Three insisted. "It's just… with a crowd… I didn't know what to do. If I tried taking her away someplace to talk, they would have thought I was kidnapping her or something."

"I know." Eight helped Three back over to the bench and they both sat down. "Three, you are one of the most capable and reliable people I know, but you are only mortal. Even Agent 3 has to have weaknesses. You should not add stubbornness and, dare I say, ego to the ones you already have."

Three's mantle turned a sour green, and she averted her gaze. "Sorry." Then she sighed, her mantle turning grey. "Really, I'm sorry."

"I am sorry too," Eight said.

"You shouldn't be," Three replied softly. "I deserved all that."

"Perhaps, but I am not without fault either. I should have spoken up much sooner, and I should not have behaved so timidly around you. I was afraid of offending you for fear that you would reject me, but instead, I only added to your worries."

Three's mantle returned to its natural green colour and she sat up a little straighter, gazing out towards the framework of the Ferris wheel as their pod neared the wheel.

"I don't think I've ever heard or seen you get really mad. It's a side of you I haven't seen before."

Eight laughed nervously and found her cheeks growing warm as she followed Three's gaze outside.

"I suppose we both saw new sides of each other today. Strange, I always thought fighting was a bad thing but, if we hadn't fought, we might never have learned so much about each other. She looked back at Three, smiling. "I wouldn't have learned what you were really feeling."

Three shifted uncomfortably. "I thought, if anything, that's what you would be angry about."

Eight shrugged. "I suppose I was, but I feel better now understanding how you feel. I didn't know you carried so much guilt."

Three leaned back and stared straight up at the blue sky. "I thought I was over it. I'd been through that whole guilt trip before but Callie and Marie got me out of it. Maybe the idea of being a couple with you just made me worried about it again, on top of a lot of other stuff."

"You do seem to have a lot of worries," Eight admitted.

"That's why I wish I was more like you."

Eight gaped, her eyes blinking rapidly as she processed what she had just heard. "Y-you wish you were more like me? Why?"

"Because, even though you've had a life so much harder than mine, and you had plenty you could have been worried about when you got to inkopolis, you never seemed worried. You were always cheerful, always excited, always wanting to try new things. I guess I envied you a little."

Eight found herself blushing and she lightly brushed one of her tentacles away from her face. "I… I am honored. Honestly, I… I suppose I was too excited to worry. But it was thanks to you, Four, Pearl, and Marina that I was able to be like that. Were I on my own, I certainly would have worried a lot more than I did."

Three raised an eyebrow at her. "You mean, you did worry?"

"Sometimes. Worried that I might not fit into the society, worried about the struggles I had understanding inkling customs. Honestly, in times like those, your stoicness was often reassuring."

"I didn't mean to be like that, I mean, not on purpose, but I'm glad I could help."

Eight smiled and shuffled closer. Three noticed this and eyed her suspiciously while she leaned slightly away.

"Now it is my turn to help you, Three."

Three frowned and leaned slightly further away. "What do you mean?"

"You said you were afraid of accidentally hurting me by pure instinct, yes? Well, the best way I can think of to prevent that is by becoming familiar enough with each other that you never confuse me for any other octoling."

She scooted closer and Three leaned still further away. "Um... maybe? I guess?"

She was most definitely blushing now, Eight noted with amusement. She actually found herself liking this shyer more timid part of Three.

"Well, if we are going to try and make this relationship work, surely we need to act more boldly than we were before."

Three's brows furrowed in thought and her mantle rippled blue, considering. "I guess so?"

She sat straight again. They were just starting to come down the other side of the Ferris wheel now, their view, which previously showed only steel girders was now a panoramic view of much of Wahoo World and Inkopolis Bay beyond.

To Eight, the view was breathtaking, a totally different sort of view than she got from the penthouse. Below, the people bustled about Wahoo World's footpaths like swarms of tiny insects and many of the other rides looked like toys.

"We have to be bolder."

Eight turned to Three. The girl was staring down towards the sights below but her vision was turned inwards again. This time though, there was purpose behind that faraway gaze, and the despondency or bitterness that had been there before was gone, replaced by resolution.

"Eight," she said. "I'm dealing with a lot of stuff now, not all of it has to do with you, but it's still affecting… this." She was referring to their relationship of course. "If anything's going to happen I'm going to have to deal with that first."

Eight reached out and grasped Three's hand, pulling it close to her. "How can I help?"

Three looked down at her hand and slowly curled her fingers in a way that managed to wrap around some of Eight's, then she shook her head.

"You can't help with this one. This is down to me, Callie, and Marie. You… you I'll need after. For now, I need you to be patient because we're not going to get any further with this baggage on my back."

Eight took that last phrase as some kind of metaphor. She thought she understood it well enough though. Still, she was a bit disappointed she wouldn't be able to helpt Three.

"So then, are we on hold until then?"

"Yeah," Three said slowly. "After today, but just until I can take care of this other thing. I hope it won't take long."

"And you'll let me know how it's going?"

"Yes."

"Frequently? Daily reports?"

Three frowned. "Not daily. This thing should only take a week or two."

"Twice a week then."

"When it comes up," Three said stubbornly. "Besides, maybe a little break is what we'll need to sort some other stuff out. At least, I will."

Eight sighed. "I suppose so. Perhaps this is the relationship equivalent of regrouping."

Three flashed grey. "I guess. Maybe asking some others for advice would help too."

"Agreed." Eight found herself feeling strangely light. Despite her relationship with Three being put supposedly on hold, she felt this was a good development. Too much had happened today to deal with it all at once, there was too much to consider, so many things learned."

"So, Three-."

"Cortina."

Eight blinked. "Pardon?"

Eight's mantle developed bright pink blotches and rippled bright yellow. "When it's just us, you can call me Cortina."

Eight felt as though her chest might burst. She instinctively felt the significance of this. Three had never gone by her real name, in fact, Eight barely even knew what it was. To have the privilege was more than simply a sign they had gotten closer, it was a sign of particular favour, in that she was distinguishing Eight from others she knew, even those close to her.

"Then, you may call me Hachiko at the same time," she said. She was smiling so broadly she thought she might hurt herself.

"Ah… okay….."

From there until they got off the Ferris wheel, they sat in silence, but it wasn't the awkward silences they were familiar with, rather, it was simply the two of them enjoying being near each other and Eight couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

When they got off the ride, Eight grabbed Three's hand and pulled her out.

"Come on! If we are going to be apart for a while then we must make the best of the rest of our date! We will eat some food and then go on as many rides as we can!"

"Um, okay, but you can't overdo it or else you'll push yourself too far."

"I'll be fine," she assured her. "I feel like I could fly right now. A few rides will not hurt me."

She was wrong.

**Author's Notes:**

This chapter was a real doozy to write. I must have rewritten it five times before I finally got it. Eight finally regains her agency and starts acting more like the strong girl we all know and love and gives Three the dressing down she needed. Maybe, for the sake of drama, the conflict in this chapter could have been stretched out a little more, but I didn't think it in character for these two to leave things open-ended like that and are more proactive in such situations. Their problems are far from over but at least they've taken some further steps in their relationship.

I hope this chapter was satisfying for everyone. It was my first time writing anything like it.


	11. Life in the Limelight

The activity around Inkopolis square intensified as dinner time approached and everyone tried to get in just one or two more matches before having to head home or find some other means of sustenance. Just outside the square, emerging from a small, nondescript door of an equally nondescript office building, were Pearl and Marina.

"Ah, it's good to get out early for a change," Pearl said as she stretched. It had been a while since they had left for home with the sun still so high. Indeed, although the sun was well past its apogee it had yet to take on the colour and tone of evening.

Marina covered a yawn. "I'm glad too. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"So I heard," Pearl said, disapproval oozing through her every word. "Marina, I'm not gonna' act like your mom, but as your partner and best friend, I'm saying you should take better care of yourself."

Marina smiled apologetically and placed a hand atop Pearl's head. "Sorry, Pearlie. I promise, I'll try to get more sleep tonight."

"I'll hold ya' to that." Pearl grinned and grasped Marina's hand. "Come on. We're off early, we might as well get home." Marina nodded and the two started back towards their condo.

Nobody bothered them as they walked. Although the square was so busy, few people travelled the route between it and the upscale condos and apartments. Even fewer recognized them and those who did offered a simple wave which they both returned.

Pearl let her mantle turn a pleasant, gentle yellow. As much as she loved being a celebrity, sometimes it was nice to just be able to walk home looking and feeling like everyone else. Marina noticed the change and gave her hand a squeeze, telling her she was also enjoying this simple walk home. Amazing how the most mundane things became so treasured when one's life was in the spotlight.

"How do you think Eight is doing?" Marina asked suddenly.

Pearl shrugged. "Dunno. Since Three is the one that asked her out this time she's probably feeling less pressure. Maybe she was able to loosen up enough to have some fun."

Marina touched her top lip thoughtfully. "Maybe. Eight was so happy about it. I hope she really did do what we told her and enjoyed herself instead of coming home early to do chores." She sighed, her tentacles making a motion akin to shrugging. "But that girl is so dutiful and Three would probably praise her for that sort of thing."

"Probably right. We can only hope that she has a good time. I don't have any messages from her on my phone since she said she was on the last bus to Wahoo World."

"Same." Marina took out her phone just to check it again. Pearl raised an eyebrow as Marina's face adopted a worried frown before she put it away.

"What is it?" Pearl asked.

"Nothing. Just a little anxious, I guess."

Pearl laughed. "What have you got to be anxious about? We both want things to work out for Eight but worrying about it isn't going to get us anywhere. We won't find out anything until we get home, at least. I think if she's not there, then things went well. Come on, just relax."

"Trying," Marina said, her voice rising in pitch. "I wonder if I'm starting to develop my maternal instincts. I am eighteen."

Pearl mantle flickered red once. Marina had become pretty protective of Eight since her arrival on the surface and the two of them acting like sisters was old news. Pearl didn't know anything about how Octarians developed compared to Inklings, but she doubted Marina was only starting to develop maternal instincts. Pearl was pretty certain she had them since they met.

"Nah, you're just a worry wart." Pearl teased. "Instead of being nervous about Eight, why don't we focus on what we're going to do for dinner? If Eight's not going to be there to cook for us, that means we have to feed ourselves." She grinned. "'Course, we could always just order out."

Marina's beautiful smile returned, her eyes twinkling. "Actually, I was thinking we could make dinner together. It has been a while and I've honestly missed it."

Pearl found herself smiling along with her and she felt a sense of nostalgic longing. Back when they had first started living together in Pearl's old studio apartment, it was while they tried cooking together that they learned the most about each other. Talking about their ideas for new jams, about what Marina thought of all the new experiences she had each day, arguing- lots of arguing. Some of their most intense confrontations had been about dinner or breakfast.

_But you sure learn a lot about someone when you argue with them a lot. 'Course, sometimes you have to get close to someone to argue with them. _Eight hadn't realized that yet, obviously, but she would eventually. Oh, to be a teenager again.

Pearl felt her arm go taught as Marina came to a halt and she had to backpedal. When she looked up at her, wondering what was wrong, she noticed the concerned expression on Marina's face.

"Isn't that Three?"

Pearl followed Marina's gaze and squinted, letting her cross-shaped pupils narrow her vision to a single small point barely the size of a pinprick and focus on it. "Yeah, it is Three, and she's… carrying Eight on her back!"

They looked at each other, startled and worried, then they broke into a run. Pearl, despite her much shorter legs, managed to keep up with Marina for the duration of the sprint but by the time they reached Three, she was out of breath.

"What happened?" Marina cried.

Eight hung limply onto Three, her arm draped over her shoulders while Three held her up by her legs. Eight's dark skin was flushed darker and her eyes had an odd bleariness to them.

"It's my fault," Three said in her rough voice. "I didn't restrain her."

"Restrain her from what?" Marina was checking Eight over, running her tentacles delicately through her fingers and peering into her eyes as if checking for concussion.

Pearl had recovered enough to at least stand up relatively straight and met Three's eyes as the younger inkling looked directly at her and said, "Wahoo Flu."

Pearl blinked a few times, frowning, before her brain completed the pathways linking the phrase to her memory. "Ah, okay, that makes sense." She managed a weak but earnest smile of reassurance for Marina. "She just tired herself out going on too many crazy rides too fast. People who aren't used to it get what's called 'Wahoo Flu.' She's just worn out."

Pearl saw Marina's eyes refocus and then her worried expression morphed into an angry frown which she directed at Eight. The younger octoling looked away like a guilty toddler.

"I can walk," she squeaked. "But she insisted on carrying me. It is not as bad as it looks."

Marina crossed her arms. "Well, fortunately we're almost home. I can take her from here, Three."

"I'm alright," Three said. "You've had a long day too, and it's not far."

Pearl smirked as she saw Eight all but bury her face into Three's back. Poor girl was probably dying of embarrassment, but she was also probably a little happy about being carried by her crush. It was adorable.

"Well, let's go," Pearl said. "No sense having you carry her if we're just gonna' stand here."

"But you're walking when we get into the building." Marina lectured.

Eight mumbled a "yes ma'am", and then they resumed their walk.

"Did you manage to go on most of the rides at least?" Pearl asked.

"She tried," Three answered instead. She left it at that. For Pearl, and indeed, most denizens of Inkopolis, that alone was enough to understand what had happened. Pearl elaborated for Marina and Eight's benefit.

"Wahoo Flu usually happens because people new to amusement parks try to ride all the rides in one day without resting in-between. Even for people who are used to it, it still sometimes happens if they push themselves too hard."

"Still nothing compared to the metro," Eight mumbled.

"Don't pull that card on us," Marina said crossly. "You don't hear Three and Four comparing their fight against DJ Octavio to everything, do you?"

Pearl laughed. "Maybe you should have fought him instead of Four, Marina. You're a way better DJ. You wouldn't have just beaten him, you would have humiliated him."

Marina and Eight both grimaced and averted their gazes. Pearl frowned and looked at Three who didn't meet her gaze. Pearl huffed, annoyed.

"Fine, leave me out of your exclusive little club. See if I care."

Marina let out a small whine. "Pearlie, please, don't be like that."

Pearl said nothing. Honestly, she wasn't as bothered by it as she made it sound. She knew everyone had their secrets. Even so, it still hurt a little to be kept of this weird little loop. Besides, how threatening could an abusive DJ be if a couple of kids were able to take him down?

They arrived at their condo and Marina had Three deposit Eight on the ground once they were in the vestibule.

"Why don't you join us for dinner," Marina offered. She stole a quick look at Pearl, and she shrugged. She had no issue with it, but she doubted Three would accept. Indeed, Three looked a bit taken aback. "Just as thanks for bringing Eight home and taking care of her."

Three frowned, glanced at Eight, who was looking away shamefully, and then back at Marina. She spoke a handful of words which Pearl could only guess was Octese. That was another thing that kept her out of the loop: she didn't speak the Octarian language. She had no idea how or why Three knew it so well.

Whatever it was she said brought a very pleasant smile to Marina's lips and her eyes glittered in that way they did when she felt touched in a positive way.

"Be that as it may, I insist."

Three's expression changed very little but there was one loop Pearl was in that the octolings weren't: she could understand not only Tuk'yan, but also the other subtleties in inkling body language, including the kind that only appeared in the mantle. The way Three's was shifting just under the surface clearly showed she was thinking hard, and then the tone of her mantle lightened ever so slightly when she reached her decision.

"I accept. I have some things I'd like to ask you anyway."

Pearl was intrigued. She had been hoping for some quality and much missed bonding time with Marina but this dinner might at least manage to be interesting. What could she want to ask them about?

"Wonderful." Marina buzzed them in and they waited for Three to sign in at the guard office before joining them in the elevator. She then held Eight steady as the elevator began its ascent and then when it stopped.

Marina opened the door to the penthouse and held it open for all of them.

"I hope you don't mind if Pearl and I cook. We were looking forward to it tonight and Eight doesn't look like she's in the shape for it anyway."

Three pulsed grey and then, catching herself, she simply said, "I've had her cooking."

Pearl facepalmed. Three would have been better off not saying anything. _Seriously, girl, learn some cursed tact._ Fortunately, Eight didn't seem to have noticed. Head hung low, she ambled like the undead to a couch and plopped down, shifting to lay on her side with a soft groan.

Marina vanished into her room to change and Pearl did the same. She chose a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. Probably more casual than someone should wear when entertaining a guest, but she doubted Three would care and after a long day, she needed some comfort.

She beat Marina back to the kitchen and found Three sitting on the other couch, staring off into space. The subtle shifting and rippling of her mantle indicated she was deep in thought. The slight glance she received, however, indicated she was still aware of her surroundings.

Pearl displayed a medium blue, telling her to relax, and then went to the fridge.

_Funny how I always seem to use Tuk'yan more when Three is around, even subconsciously._

"What to make?" She said to herself as she opened the fridge's double doors. Unlike when it had been just her and Marina, it was fully stocked. Having a third person to look after the home and run errands while they were busy really was becoming quite handy. It meant they had a lot of options as far as what they could make for dinner.

She glanced to her right as Marina finally appeared in the kitchen. A black sweater with white jagged designs and maroon leggings. Pearl ignored the raised eyebrow at her own choice of clothing and moved a little to the side to let Marina see into the fridge as well.

"Should we have fish?" She suggested. "I'm pretty sure we have some."

"With cream of mushroom?"

Marina shrugged. "Why not? As long as it's not salad dressing."

Pearl rolled her eyes. "I only did that once as an experiment. Be thankful I didn't buy the swordfish."

"Once was enough." Marina grinned and patted Pearl on the head in that condescending way she hated. The worst thing about being so close to someone was that they knew how to get under your skin. Again and again and again.

_Just wait till you reach this stage, Eight._

Dinner preparations proceeded quickly from there. Marina worked on the fish while Pearl got the cream of mushroom ready. About halfway through, Three entered the kitchen area, asking for a glass of water. Marina kindly directed her to where the glasses were kept and Three took her drink back to the living room.

Pearl watched her go and smiled a little when she saw Three hand the full glass to Eight.

"Eight," Marina called. "Come set the table."

"I can do it," Three offered.

"No." Marina was using her firm, big sister tone. "I appreciate the offer but Hachiko's doing it."

From any other teenager, Pearl would have expected a long and annoyed groan, perhaps some mumbled curses, but Eight dutifully rose, a little shaky at first, and did as she was told.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Pearl whispered to Marina.

"She needs to be up and moving to recover, now that she's had a little time to rest. Besides, this will help her remember not to do this in the future."

_If you touch the stove and you get burned, you're less likely to do it again._ Pearl wasn't sure she agreed with that philosophy, but Hachiko was Marina's charge, even if Pearl was technically her legal guardian.

Despite her weariness, Eight set the table perfectly. Not a single plate, utensil, or napkin was out of place. Her maid training had made setting the table second nature.

When she was done, Marina told her to wash up.

Eventually, they all sat down at the table and, after a quick blessing and giving of thanks, they dug in.

"So, fallout aside, how was Wahoo World?"

Pearl directed the question at Eight, who was slow to attack her meal.

"It was fun." Eight replied. Had she been in better condition she would probably have yelled it out. "More fun than I could have imagined. The first ride was one shaped like an umbrella with chairs dangling from it."

Pearl nodded. Three most likely had led the way, getting her to start with the gentler rides and working their way up.

From there, Eight reiterated her experience. All the rides she had been on, only some of which she could remember the names of and had to rely on Three's knowledge for those little details, but Pearl also joined in, making a game out of guessing what ride Eight was referring to.

When Eight's story trailed off, Pearl figured that must have been the point she succumbed to overexertion. She pretty much knew where things had gone from there anyway.

"So? Did you two kiss at the top of the ferris wheel?"

Eight jolted and her eyes went wide in panic. "Eh? What? No, we just - we talked. Yes, that was all. We talked."

Three, by contrast, hardly reacted at all. There was a rippling of ruddy-brown but that was all. Her stoicism seemed to calm Eight down as well; although, the octoling's cheeks were blue. Clearly _something_ juicy had happened on that ride.

Pearl shrugged and returned to her dinner. It came out pretty well and it was nice to make a meal together with Marina again.

Marina cleared her throat. "So, Three, what question did you want to ask us?"

"And it better not be one aleady covered by our FAQ," Pearl added. "You can find that online."

More maroon ripples and a slight narrowing of the eyes but she said nothing verbally or otherwise before launching into her question, looking directly at Pearl.

"You are no longer protected by child privacy protection, right?"

Pearl arched an eyebrow. This was not at all the direction she expected the conversation to go. "Ye-es," Pearl answered slowly. "I lost it when I turned twenty, same as everyone else."

"Then, since you are a celebrity, how did it affect your life?"

Pearl tapped her fork against her plate, thinking. How had it affected her life? She didn't really live any differently now than she did before, and she had met Marina when she was nineteen. What did it matter to Three though? She wasn't exactly living in the spotlight. And then it clicked.

"Ah, right, Callie and Marie are turning twenty next year."

Three winced and the underlying colour of her mantle turned slightly reddish. She probably hadn't expected Pearl to figure that out, at least not so quickly.

Pearl flashed grey. "I guess it didn't affect me as much because I've kinda' been in the spotlight since I hatched. Part of being in the Pygmy family."

Three pulsed green. "And how did you learn to deal with it? Did you have people following you around to protect and watch you?"

Pearl groaned and lolled her head back as she said a long, drawn out yes. "We always had servants going with us everywhere. Couldn't so much as go out onto the front lawn without someone watching us." She grunted. "I hated it. Made my home feel more like a prison sometimes."

"It was only because they cared about you, Pearlie."

Pearl glanced at Marina and huffed. "I know, but - ugh, I don't deal with confinement well." She heaved a sigh and looked back at Three. The girl's mantle was rippling a lot now, no doubt processing all the information and running all kinds of scenarios through her little head.

_But why is she asking this kind of thing? On Callie and Marie's behalf? No, they'd know exactly what to expect; Three might not, but why would she want to know in the first place? Is she afraid that hanging out with them so much will pull her into the spotlight too?_

Three's alias, Maiya, was a highly skilled turf war player, one of the best in terms of pure statistics. Her particular stats were often reiterated on their news segment. All such skilled players suffered at least some harassment from the gossip media when they reached twenty. In Pearl's opinion, they should extend the law to at least twenty-five, by which time most girls had already finished second puberty.

_But then those gossipers wouldn't be able to track growth progress, would they?_ She snorted inwardly.

Three came out of her thoughts and spoke again. "What kind of things might happen to them? They already have to keep their guard up a lot. People always trying to sneak photos."

Pearl nodded. "Yeah, but nudie photos are not allowed prior to twenty, or sex tapes, or things like that. There are also less severe punishments if you're caught home invading." She grinned. "Unless you do what Marina did and break their arm."

Marina flushed. "He spooked me from behind. It was instinct."

Pearl laughed and patted Marina's arm. "I wasn't making fun, 'Rina, I was praising you."

Three crossed her arms and her mantle turned a deep, contemplative blue.

"And dating?" Three asked.

Pearl nodded. "Yup, your whole love life is put up for everyone to see. People ask about your relationships, your breakups, who's fault it was, things like that. Once you're a public figure, nothing's private anymore, even if it is by law. Sometimes you can deal with it but other times it gets to you. It's not an easy thing to live with."

She heaved a sigh. "It can create a lot of drama in a group though. People's social lives competing with their professional ones, getting your schedules to line up, things can get heated."

"But there are things that help," Marina chimed in. "Sharing your burdens with someone else, helping each other, supporting each other." Pearl felt Marina's fingers intertwine with hers under the table. "Sometimes you need someone else to believe in you, someone who doesn't care what the tabloids print, because they know who you really are."

Understanding dawned in Three's eyes, her mantle making waves of guard red against the backdrop of blue. Whatever Three had been weighing in her mind, that red indicated she had come to some resolution.

She bowed her head to the two of them, displaying waves of blue and green, sincere gratitude.

Pearl waved it off with a gentle pulse of slightly darker green. "Don't mention it." Pearl glanced over at Eight who looked concerned and very confused.

_Yeah, this is probably another aspect of surface culture she never knew about. Barnacles, how are Marina and I supposed to explain this?_

"Is there a particular reason you asked this?" Marina asked. "If there's something in particular bothering you you're free to talk about it with us."

Three displayed a pulse that quickly shifted from red to violet. "No, sorry, I can't say. You will probably find out soon anyway."

Marina frowned, worry in her eyes. Pearl needed to brighten the mood up.

"Don't worry about it," she said, loudly. "We're just happy to help. Besides, not like it's all bad news, right? You two just had a great day out; you must have some good things to talk about."

Three flashed grey and then looked at Eight. "You could tell them about all the new foods you tried."

Eight blinked. "Huh? Oh! Oh, yes. There were these things called candy apples. They were like regular apples but dipped in stuff called caramel."

Eight went on like that throughout the rest of dinner and even through dessert. Her weariness seemed to have worn off now and even though Three rarely spoke after that, Pearl thought that Eight seemed happy just to have her there.

Three stayed for another hour after dinner; although, the only thing she really said was that her iya was doing well with her eggnancy so far, which was good to hear. As one got older, the risks associated with eggnancy increased.

After that, Three had to leave.

"Don't be a stranger," Marina said. "Feel free to pop in any time."

"Thank you," Three said. "Thank you for dinner. It was very good."

Three sounded like a child reciting words her mother directed her to say. It was actually kind of cute, Pearl thought.

Finally, Three looked at Eight and gave her a simple nod. Eight returned the gesture, and then, Three was gone.

Eight sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes.

"Long day, huh?" Pearl asked grinning.

Eight nodded. "Yes. It was very long indeed." Then she smiled. "But it was all worth it. I think our relationship has progressed."

"And you-," Marina began, her big sister tone coming back into her voice. "Will progress yourself into the bath. It's early to bed for you tonight, Hachiko."

Eight frowned. "But… but Marina, I feel fine now."

"March!"

Eight yelped and then scurried into the corridor like a stung cockroach.

"Sounds like someone else ought to be going to bed early tonight." Pearl said.

Marina grunted. "Don't push me tonight, Pearlie. Please."

"I'm not pushing you; I mean it. You should go to bed early; you're exhausted."

Marina rubbed her eyes. "I suppose I am. I'll have a shower after Eight's done in the bath."

"Or, you could just have one together. It's never bothered you two before."

Marina grimaced. "Maybe, but…"

"Oh, just go." Pearl gave Marian a firm smack on the behind, making the octoling help in surprise. "And make sure you wash behind your ears."

Marina pouted fiercely but she relented and headed to her room to get a change of clothes. Pearl grinned in triumph.

Then she turned and stared out the large windows onto the Inkopolis skyline, the glow of the setting sun reflecting off their glass facades like distant mirrors.

There was one aspect Pearl hadn't mentioned to Three that tended to cause a lot of drama and splitting apart of many groups as they transitioned from teen entertainers to adults, and that was maintaining relevance.

While Pearl sincerely doubted the Squid Sisters would ever be wanting for work, they couldn't continue exactly as they had. While Marie's solo career was varied enough she could maintain a healthy core of fans even as they too transitioned to adulthood, if the Squid Sisters as a unit wanted to stay popular, they would have to find a way to maintain their connection to their audience, and those sometimes turned ugly and backfired.

In larger units, disagreements about the direction the group should take and the varying lengths the members were willing to go to maintain their popularity and relevancy caused fracturing. This would, inevitably, cause the group to break up.

Pearl didn't see Callie and Marie reducing themselves to the degeneracy of all too many past-teen idols, but then, nobody ever did.

Three was probably right to be worried. The road ahead for the Squid Sisters was going to be a rough one.

_You better make it through,_ Pearl thought. _You better stay relevant and as popular as you are now. I won't accept our rivals falling. We'll reach you no matter how high you are._

Eight tried not to grumble as she searched through her drawers for some fresh clothing. Since it was late, she should probably wear clothes she could sleep in.

The so-called Wahoo Flu and Marina's harsh tone had been the only blights on an otherwise excellent day. True, there was that incident with that other octoling at the park and her argument with Three, but even that resulted in a huge step forward for their relationship, so it was easy to see them in a positive light.

Eight gathered her clothes in her arms then snatched a towel and washcloth from the hallway closet before entering the bathroom, only to discover the tub already being filled and Marina standing next to it.

Their eyes met and Marina gave her a soft smile. "I thought we could bathe together. We've both had a long day."

Eight blinked and then, without realizing it, she too smiled. Yes, it had been a long and polarizing day. She would leave it and focus on tomorrow instead. And, hopefully, she would discover just what Three meant soon without having to guess.

**Author's Notes:**

I know people have been clamouring for more Pearl and Marina interactions so that's one of the purposes of this chapter. It also sets up a few other things that will be coming in the future. Plus, I know people like it when Pearl acts like Eight's mom XD.


	12. The Underlying Dream

Three tried not to let her emotions show in her mantle as she stared at the disturbing literature she held in her hand. She couldn't stop it from rippling though.

She stood in a convenience store just outside of Calamari Castle, the gated community Callie and Marie lived in. In her hands she held one of the many gossip magazines that occupied the shelves. She'd simply grabbed the one with the most scandalous headline - one about band members getting into a brawl, and scanned through it.

Pearl and Marina's words and advice were like a friendly spectre riding her shoulders. The first section of the magazine was filled with random pictures taken of celebrities in their day to day lives with brief commentary about what they were wearing or what they might have been up to. Three felt contaminated just seeing the page. Some of the things she read about some of the people pictured were just too outlandish for Three to believe, even for a second.

_But some people are stupid enough to believe it; or sad enough to want to believe it._

She spotted one image of a person she recognized; a colleague of Callie and Marie's- a personal friend of the former, and a fellow idol. Three recalled meeting her on several occasions and even had one of her albums. Three read the small blurb underneath the picture.

"_Gloris Redderling post- 'retirement'. Unable to stand the pressures of idoldom, she's doing her best to camouflage herself among the common populace. Maybe try losing the oversized sunglasses, Gloris."_

Gloris, as best Three could recall, was just a year older than Callie and Marie, so she would have already lost the protection of child privacy protection. It seemed retirement wasn't enough to get the tabloid piranhas to leave her alone.

Three turned the page in disgust and breezed through the rest until she got to the cover feature. Apparently, a popular band had now broken up as the result of a vicious brawl, a brawl shown in blurry photos on the page.

The text made it sound like a bloodbath but Three doubted things got that bad. The blurriness of the image allowed one's imagination to run wild, but as best Three could tell, they just looked like they were tripping over each other, probably drunk.

Three flashed grey and put the magazine back on the shelf. She had seen enough to put everything Pearl and Marina had told her into fresh context, now she needed to make use of it.

Three exited the convenience store and clenched her jaw as the chill hit her. Cold ocean air blowing in from Inkopolis Bay pushed the warm air from the afternoon away, probably for the last time until Spring. It wasn't cold enough that Three needed a jacket but it probably would be tomorrow.

Three forced the discomfort aside and headed across the street to the guard station. She hadn't brought her pass so she had to get taken inside, present her personal ID and the guard had to check to make sure she was still on the list of people allowed in. Fortunately, the guards knew her well enough that the process took mere moments, and she was soon through the gate and on her way.

She shivered as another gust of cold air blew on her back. The light of the moon was filtered through a thin layer of clouds but it still provided enough illumination for her to see.

Because Calamari Castle was technically not public, the city was not responsible for building or maintaining the infrastructure inside, including the street lights. To save money, the owners had installed relatively few streetlights, creating plenty of dark areas between houses. Dark areas people could use to sneak around.

Soon, Three found herself standing at the door of a familiar bungalow. Over the past two years it had become like a second home. The route was so familiar she could walk it in her sleep, she knew the layout by heart, and was even familiar with the unique sounds it made when it settled or the peculiar squeak the furnace made on occasion.

She was usually welcome to come in as she pleased, especially since Callie and Marie were frequently in their soundproof studio where they couldn't be reached, but it was always polite to knock or ring first regardless.

She pressed her finger on the doorbell button and heard the chime from inside. Depending on where the girls were or what they were doing, it could take a full minute before either of them could answer the door, assuming they heard it at all. Three always waited at least that long before she ever tried ringing again. This time, the door opened barely ten seconds later, with Callie on the other side.

"Hey Three!" She greeted brightly. Despite being dressed in sweatpants and a plain magenta t-shirt, she still looked stunning.

Inside, Three spotted Marie in the kitchen. She appeared to be making herself some ice tea - real ice tea, not just ordinary tea with ice in it. Callie invited her to sit at the kitchen table. There were several scraps of paper on its surface. The girls had probably been discussing song titles and lyrics again.

Three and Callie sat down across from each other and then Marie brought them some of the ice tea to drink. Three gulped it down immediately. Despite the chill outside, it still felt refreshing.

"You're not too cold, Three?" Marie asked. Three's outfit wasn't exactly what one wore with the coming of winter. Three flashed green.

Callie let out a small whine. "Come on, Marie. Aren't you going to ask?" Callie leaned across the table towards Three, her eyes wide and glowing. "Tell us how the date went!"

Marie's mantle turned earthen red in disapproval but Callie ignored her. Three's own mantle turned an apprehensive dark yellow. Even so, she did need to talk about the date in order to reach the ultimate topic of conversation. It could be a decent way to break the ice too.

She started with Eight's arrival and the first series of rides they went on and Eight's exciting first time on a roller coaster. Callie and Marie listened intently, smiling with a mix of pride and nostalgia. Then, Three got to the less pleasant but most important part: the incident with the octoling girl.

Callie and Marie's facial expressions were almost unreadable as she spoke about what happened on the Ferris wheel but subtle concern did show in their mantles. For Three, it took a lot of effort to push through the retelling of the incident. It was not only embarrassing talking about the date as a whole but admitting to such a large moment of weakness was hard on its own. It was extra difficult to speak when it came to Eight coming to bail her out of the situation with the other cotoling girl. Callie and Marie knew she hated the idea of needing to be rescued.

As she neared the end, Callie came over and hugged her, wrapping one tentacle around her torso in a comforting gesture. Three then trailed off, deciding she didn't need to tell them precisely what happened between her and Eight after that incident, so she simply glossed over it."

"-And then Eight went overboard with all the rides and wouldn't listen to me when I said to take a break. She got Wahoo Flu."

Marie smiled sympathetically. "Well, it happens. Although, it also sounds like she was trying to get your mind off what happened and that's why she didn't listen. Otherwise, she's normally pretty attentive when you tell her things, right?"

Three flushed slightly. She hadn't thought of that. Had Eight really pushed herself so far for her sake? She would have to consider it later. For the moment, there were more pressing matters.

"So, it sounds like everything else went great!" Callie gave Three a friendly squeeze. "I'm sure Eight will be more cautious in the future anyway."

Three nodded. "But it made me realize something." There came the inevitable raised eyebrows from the other two girls, along with the slight yellowish tint in their mantles. "I'm too immature. I'm too weak outside of doing my job."

Callie and Marie's mantles turned solid yellow and they looked at each other, then back at her.

"So?" Marie asked. "What is it you think you're missing? What do you think you can do to improve yourself?"

"I need to grow up more, I think." Three let that sink in for a second. "I think I've become too reliant on other people for dealing with… other people. I don't really deal with a lot of people in my job and I don't deal with people at home much either. What happens when I have to live on my own?"

The girls hummed together and shared a look between them that communicated something only they knew.

"Kinda' know how you feel," Callie said. "We started out on our own pretty young. Living by yourself in a big city trying to fulfill a big dream while keeping a roof over your head isn't easy, physically or mentally."

"But now that you've identified an issue-," Marie chimed in, "what are you going to do about it?"

Three avoiding fidgeting or averting her gaze, but she wasn't able to spare the necessary discipline to keep her mantle under control, and it turned pale. Her jaw clenched briefly but she forced it to relax and blinked her eyes as they watered up from the effort of it all.

"I thought I should maybe try to be a little more independant or at least force myself to go out more and experience more things. Step outside my comfort zone, I think they call it."

Marie tapped her finger on the table, her mantle rippling with anticipation. "So…."

Three pulsed blue. "So, I figured that since I'm not so good with a lot of stuff, I wouldn't be much use to Iya and Dad at home so-."

Callie shattered the relative peace of the house with a high-pitched squeal. "Does this mean you accept? You'll be our bodyguard?"

Three bit her bottom lip. Callie's eyes were huge and bright. Her face was practically glowing.

"I want to," she said slowly. "And if I can, I will; but I'm still only sixteen."

Callie blinked in confusion but Marie pulsed green with understanding.

"She still needs her parent's permission. She might be old enough to work but a live-in job would require parental consent."

Callie tilted her head. "I thought that wouldn't be an issue. Three always seemed to be on good terms with her parents."

"I am," Three insisted. "And a few months ago it wouldn't have been too hard, but now Iya is eggnant so…."

"So she'll instinctively be more wary and protective of her family," Marie sighed. "Not to mention Three will be asking to live with and protect two people they will have never heard about from her."

Callie grimaced. "I guess it would be a bit of a shock for them to find out we're _anu eelae_ despite knowing each other for only two years."

"And the fact that we're two of the worlds biggest celebrities." Marie added with a smirk.

Callie smirked back. "I didn't think I needed to state the obvious."

"Not to mention we're both in the midst of second puberty and suddenly we want a cute, young bodyguard. That's not going to sound suspicious at all."

Three flinched and her mantle rippled like a puddle in a rainstorm. She hadn't thought about it from that angle, but the idea that Callie and Marie would even think of having her for such a purpose was anathema to her. The tabloids she had been reading earlier flashed in the forefront of her memory as if in mockery.

"Some people would call that a perk," Callie said with a grin. Marie responded with a disapproving scowl.

"I'm sure her parents would not."

Callie groaned, her mantle turning maroon. "Then what are we supposed to do? We want Three, Three wants to be with us and we both get something out of it, non-scandalous things."

"I'm sure the tabloids will see it that way," Marie said, her voice syrupy with sarcasm. "In any case, we're going to have to convince her parents that we're trustworthy."

"Three's word has to be good for something."

Marie pulsed red. "Three is young and she'll appear to have been seduced by our glamour, magnanimity, charisma, and charm. It'll just look to them like the trappings of most teenagers."

Callie snorted, her mantle turning burgundy. "Three's never been one to follow all the other fish. Why would she start now?"

"First time for everything. I'm sure it'll come up, even if there's really no precedence for it. No matter what happens, Three isn't going to have an easy time convincing them, especially not on her own. We'll have to think of some way to help out."

Callie tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "Maybe if she sorta' tests the waters and asks cautiously at first? Just so it isn't a huge shock all at once."

Marie frowned. "Maybe… I suppose it really depends what kind of people they are. Sometimes a shock works best."

"With an eggnant inkyora? Not a chance."

"Ultimately, it's up to Three how we go about this. It's her life and it's her family."

Three swallowed hard. "Conversation and arguing." Her eyes fell. "Things I'm not good at."

Callie chuckled. "Just think of this as a chance for you to grow. It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"It might also help to explain your own reasons for wanting to accept the job," Marie suggested.

"You mean besides being with and protecting my family?" Three smiled and Callie and Marie smiled too.

"Nice to know it wasn't all ulterior motives." Callie gave Three a big hug. "You don't know what this means to us, Cortina."

"I guess not," Three admitted. "But I want to help. No matter which way this turns out, I promise I will."

Marie's mantle turned yellow with passionate pink spots. Callie's changed a second later to match.

"A promise from you is worth more than gold," Marie said. "Thank you, Cortina."

Three changed her mantle to match theirs. She wasn't too embarrassed to say "I love you" to her two best friends, to her family. Come the eternal fires or the ancient floods, she would protect them.

**Author's Notes:**

A short chapter but one showing real progress at least.

Inkling society does a better job of protecting it's younger generation than our own with their privacy being well protected by law (though that still doesn't stop some people), and prevents people from slandering them too heavily in media lest it be considered child abuse. Of course, those same laws prevent Three from getting a job without her parent's permission as long as she lives at home, whereas someone in Four's position, living on her own, would be able to get a job without her parent's permission because she's been granted greater legal autonomy in order to live on her own. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to take certain jobs until she's Three's age and even Three now needs parental permission in order to take any kind of live-in job, for obvious reasons.


	13. Jewel

Eight was a bundle of nerves as she got into her dress, her fingers fumbling with the shoulder straps. She was actually glad Pearl insisted she be introduced as herself rather than as her maid to her family. The bundle of anxiety she was right now would not have looked good and there was no way she could have maintained any kind of professional facade. No, she was just too nervous.

Eight examined herself in her mirror, checking the fit of the dress. She had worn it only once before, during her first week on the surface when Pearl and Marina had taken her to dinner at a fancy restaurant as a way of helping her to unwind after her long ordeal in the Metro. Dark blue, the dress came up to just under her arms with thin straps that went over her shoulders. The skirt came down to just above her knees.

Pearl had commented that it was out of season but still looked good on her. Eight wasn't entirely sure what that meant in terms of fashion but she supposed it was getting colder. The idea of changing seasons was still something new to her.

"Eight?" Marina's voice came in from the other side of her bedroom door. "Are you almost ready to go?"

"I think so." Eight picked up the shoes that went with the dress and opened the door.

Marina stood there in a simple but elegant teal polo shirt and black pants. In contrast to Eight she seemed perfectly calm, even delighted. She looked Eight up and down and smiled with approval.

"It still fits. That's good. Make sure you bring your coat. It's a bit chilly today."

Eight obeyed, going back to her closet to retrieve the plum-coloured garment from her closet and slipped it on as she returned to Marina. From there, they headed to the front door where Pearl was waiting.

Pearl was dressed more nicely than Eight ever recalled seeing her. A white jacket over a pink dress and matching pink dress shoes with little white bows on the straps. She even had matching bows tied to her tentacles. Hands on hips, the expression she wore wasn't quite a scowl but she was obviously not happy.

Marina chuckled. "Now, Pearl, if you look unhappy to go you'll make Eight nervous."

Pearl rolled her eyes. "She's got no reason to be nervous. Mom and Daddy will love her. I'm the one that takes flack every time I go back home. I'll have to explain to Mom why I haven't been dating lately."

Eight felt a bit struck by that. "This is something that she bothers you about?"

"Yeah," Pearl sighed. "I only ever had one steady boyfriend and we broke up a few years ago. I haven't even looked for anyone since. Mom thinks I need to get over it and start looking for a real life partner now that I'm in my twenties."

Marina silently motioned them out the door and they made their way to the elevator.

"Is there something significant about being in your twenties in regards to dating?"

They entered the elevator and Pearl crossed her arms. "Well, it takes a while to find the person you want to make a life and family with, especially for someone like me." She paused as the elevator began to descend.

Eight watched her closely, noticing that her mantle was moving a lot beneath the surface. She didn't know the exact meaning but if Three was anyone to go by then it meant she was thinking about something.

"Marina told me once that octolings don't get to choose their mates."

"We do not," Eight admitted. "Assuming we can lay eggs at all, the best breeders among the coming generation are selected through medical screening to become nurses. Usually the ones who can lay the most eggs, in order to stretch resources as much as possible. There, they are trained in childcare and child rearing. They help the breeding mothers care for their children, gaining experience for when they become mothers themselves."

The elevator stopped and the doors parted. They passed the guard station and out onto the street where a long white car waited. It looked, to Eight, like a bus that had been squashed. There was also an older inkyar in a black suit holding the back door open.

Pearl entered first. Eight expected her to have difficulty with the dress but she moved as if it were the most natural thing in the world. That meant Pearl had done this before; she had done it a lot.

She knew that Pearl was from a rich family, but she didn't really have any frame of reference or context regarding what being "rich" meant. From an Octarian perspective, every inkling was rich.

Marina ushered her in, ahead of her, and Eight did her best to mimic Pearl's earlier movements, but the skirt of her dress still caught and dragged and she wasn't nearly as elegant.

Inside the car (or squashed bus) everything was covered in white synthleather. The seats, the walls, even the ceiling. Hidden lights illuminated the interior with agentle blue glow. The driver's compartment was kept separated by a short bulkhead with a long narrow window along the top. The large passenger compartment had seating all along the right side with a small bar on the left. All of it screamed opulence.

Once Marina assumed her seat, the chauffeur, she was sure that was what he was, shut the door and returned to the driver's seat.

"You were saying?" Pearl asked as they got underway.

"Huh? Oh, yes. Ahem." Eight took a second to gather her thoughts and trying to remember where she was in her explanation.

"Well, after the nurses reach a stage where they are deemed good for motherhood, they are paired with a male that will provide the best combination of genes and they mate. During eggnancy, young nurses will tend to her, ensuring her needs are met and that she remains fit and fed."

Pearl hummed even as she stared out the window at the passing cityscape. "What about ones that don't get selected to breed? Do they still have a chance?"

"Only if they can lay eggs. If an Octarian female shows particular qualities that would be desirable, such as being a superb warrior or being exceptionally brilliant, then of course we would want to sow those traits into the next generation. They can be recommended to bear young as well, but they won't get to do so very often. Such people are also needed at their jobs. Alternatively, if a male comes across a female that has desirable qualities, then he may petition to have her accepted."

Pearl snorted. "So he gets to pick but she doesn't? That's pretty backwards. Can't she say 'no'?"

Eight tilted her head, puzzled. "Why would she want to do that? I am certain whoever she is would be overjoyed at being chosen."

Pearl's head whirled to face her, her mantle a bright yellow-orange with ripples of maroon. She looked shocked.

"What do you mean? Who would be happy to be forced into mating with someone they might not even like?"

Eight leaned away, not quite fearfully, but Pearl's expression was intense.

"W-well, um... e-everyone? Most at least."

"Are you nuts?"

"Pearl, don't bully her," Marina chided. "Surely, you of all people understand the concept. You're the one who told me of arranged marriages."

Pearl gritted her beak. "Of course I understand, but nobody likes arranged marriages. What I want to know is why an octoling would."

Marina shook her head solemnly. "Pearl, you have to understand, most octarian females dream of exactly that. Most of us either can't lay eggs at all or can only lay duds. Even most of the ones who can, can only lay one healthy egg per clutch and will likely never have children. They are all considered expendable, gears in the machine. It's a hard and difficult life with little fulfillment or joy. But, becoming a mother? There is no greater sense of fulfillment.

"Those who become mothers, even the non-breeders, live in luxury during their time in the core domes. They are fattened prior to mating then they spend about a year in the breeding pools to lay and care for the eggs. After they hatch it's usually another two years before they are separated from their children and sent back to work. It's a brief but very treasured time in their lives."

Pearl looked very uncomfortable, disturbed even. "Marina-"

"You can see why I don't like talking about my past. It's not like I'm trying to keep things from you; it's just unpleasant. I'm here now so you don't need to feel sorry for me."

Pearl moued. "I'm not pitying you, just…" She let the sentence trail off and then looked back out the window. An uncomfortable silence descended, with Eight literally in the middle. Eight thus decided to sit back and enjoy the scenery passing by.

Since coming to the surface, Eight had never been outside Inkopolis before, save for quick touge runs with Giyari's crew, but those had been at night. The tall towers of central Inkopolis gave way to low-rise buildings and suburban neighbourhoods, and then green.

Eight stared out the window in awe, moving to the large bench seat along the right side of the car to gaze out the longer window. She thought nothing could have more greenery than Peace Park, and yet, she was there, looking upon endless expanses of it. Trees and rolling green hills as far as the eye could see, occasionally dotted with buildings.

They passed places along a road lined with iron fences and then the car slowed, turning towards a large iron gate made from the same type of steel black spikes that comprised the fence. Overtop the gate was an iron facade emblazoned by a crest: an inflated arrow shape, pointing down, over an oval. It reminded her of the crests the Octo Lords of ages past had used.

The car drove up the long cobblestone drive flanked by perfectly trimmed bushes and groomed lawn. Ahead, the drive formed a loop around a tall terraced structure decorated with small bushes, and sculptures.

At the top end of the loop was the residence and that definitely reminded Eight of the Great Octo Lords.

The building was enormous. Stretching for at least one-hundred fifty metres to either side of the extruded stone area in front of them, as if the latter were part of a much older structure that had been extended more recently. A wide, curved, stone staircase led up to the large double doors flanked by stone pillars on either side.

The building was high as well. If every row of windows indicated one floor, then there were at least three, but they seemed further apart than normal so the house itself was probably closer to four or five stories. And this whole house belonged to just one family?

The car came to a stop and a valet approached at a brisk-but not hurried step. He opened the door and Marina thanked him as she emerged. Eight came next, and then Pearl.

"Welcome home, Miss Pearl." The valet said.

"Hello Drav," Pearl greeted in return. "Everyone home?"

"Yes, everyone is waiting for you inside." Pearl's mantle rippled but she said nothing in reply.

Eight wasn't used to Pearl being referred to as "Miss." Even though she was technically her maid, she had never been so in a formal setting and so had never needed to refer to her as such.

Her maid training kept threatening to kick in but she forced it down. She was here to be introduced as Hachiko, not as Pearl's maid.

Drav led them through the large double doors into a vast atrium with a three-story ceiling and a massive crystal chandelier dangling above them. Maids waited there, all lined up. One helped Pearl out of her coat while another held her purse for her until she was done and offered her a pair of pink slippers with a silver crown embroidered on them.

Eight and Marina were also tended to and offered slippers. These were a light-brown colour, like beach sand. Eight found them very comfortable, plush on her feet and quite cozy, if a bit big on her.

They were led into another chamber, this one with a shorter ceiling but still much higher than she was used to. Pristine white couches occupied one half of the room while the other half had a large table draped with white tablecloth. The large windows allowed in ample daylight, but the recessed lighting in the ceiling was on anyway.

Ahead of them, Pearl stopped suddenly and Eight tensed, instinctively expecting conflict. Then Pearl surged forward and yelled out in a voice more high pitched than Eight had ever heard from her outside of song.

"Daddy!"

Pearl pushed past the valet and ran to one of the armchairs. Eight just barely caught a glimpse of a figure sitting in the chair before Pearl got in the way and hugged them tightly.

Marina giggled and whispered in octese, "she makes such a fuss about coming but then she acts like this once she's actually here."

"Easy there princess." Came a tenor voice from Pearl's direction. "I'm not as young as I used to be and neither are you."

Pearl laughed heartily. "Daddy, you always say that."

"When it stops being true, I'll stop saying it."

The valet left and Marina gestured for Eight to follow her. They approached Pearl and the armchair just as the former got out of the way, revealing the smallest inkyar Eight had ever seen.

Inkyar were typically at least a third, shorter than their counterpart Inkyora, but she hadn't realized Inklings could get this small. Even Pearl dwarfed him, being roughly twice his height. His mantle was the same bright pink as Pearl's tips, and his eyes were a vibrant sapphire. He looked his age but still quite healthy.

"Good to see you again, Marina."

"Likewise," Marina replied, bowing.

Then he met Eight's eyes and she tensed. "You must be Hachiko. It's good to finally meet you."

Eight curtseyed almost purely by reflex. "Nice to meet you. I am Hachiko Turfer. It is an honor to finally meet you."

He chuckled. "My my, we are a proper lady, aren't we?" He stood and put a hand to his chest as he bowed. "I am Laren Pygmy, head of the Pygmy Family. I formally welcome you to our home."

Eight blushed, feeling embarrassed at being treated with such formal respect. She was used to being on the bottom of the hierarchy, as she had been in the army. It felt especially unusual for a male to be treating her so. Unlike the matriarchal Inklings, Octolings held the relatively rare and valuable males in higher regard.

"Th-thank you," she managed to say and took a single, respectful step back.

"Well, please take a seat. The others should be here shortly." He climbed back onto his chair and Pearl took the couch adjacent to him. Marina gestured for Eight to sit first and she sat beside Pearl with Marina taking the final seat at the end of the couch on the right. Eight wondered if they were perhaps observing some kind of custom by keeping her in the middle.

"Much as I'd like to learn more about you, Hachiko," Laren continued. "I think it best to wait for the rest of the family so that you need only say it once. Few things are more annoying than having to repeat oneself."

"Tell me about it." Pearl huffed. "We have to do it at work all the time."

Marina laughed. "Pearl, I don't think it's quite the same thing as doing multiple takes for pre-recorded messages. It's not the director's fault if we flub our lines."

"Given a certain someone's lack of eloquence, I imagine there are a great deal of retakes."

Eyes all turned in the direction of the new voice, and Eight's eyes went wide.

The inkling girl striding into the room with an elegant step and a comfortable but lovely blue dress, looked almost exactly like Pearl but her tentacles were long and tied up at the back by a light-blue ring, and where Pearl was pink, she was an icy blue. Was this her mother?

She heard Pearl click her tongue. "'Least I have personality. You'd be as boring as watching paint dry."

The other inkling rolled her eyes. "As cliché and unoriginal as always. It's fortunate you can write music and have Marina to add some real wit."

Based on that interaction and her admittedly limited knowledge of inkling family dynamics, Eight quickly guessed that she had been wrong and this wasn't Pearl's mother. She couldn't imagine anyone treating their mother with such disrespect.

She tensed as the inkling's gaze passed from Pearl to her. Her training kicked in, making her stand and curtsy.

"I am honored to meet you. I am Hachiko Turfer."

The other inkling raised an eyebrow in surprise, then gave a small bob. "Likewise. I am Diamond Pygmy."

"Pearl's twin sister," Marina added.

"Indeed," Diamond said dryly. "But I must ask where you learned such good manners, Hachiko. Certainly not from Pearl."

Eight heard Pearl's beak clack and she wondered if a fight was about to start when Laren interrupted.

"Girls," he said with a gentle but firm tone. "Don't start. You're too old to be squabbling like this."

"Tradition, Daddy," Diamond responded, sitting daintily upon the opposite couch. "What would the house sound like without our arguing while Pearl was here?"

"Quiet, I imagine."

No sooner had he spoken that another set of rapid footsteps could be heard approaching the room. A pair of tall figures slid into view, both inklings with long tentacles. They had the same sapphire blue eyes as Laren. One had a deep blue mantle while the other's was a fiery red. They both ran in their direction, looking very excited.

"Brace yourself," Marina whispered in Octese. That made Eight very nervous indeed.

"Pearlie!" They both cried joyfully. Eight half jumped out of the way as they both all but lept on Pearl, burying her beneath them.

"Ah! Hey, calm down!" Pearl shouted. Eight looked at Marina, wondering if she should help, but Marina just giggled.

"Ruby, Sapphire!" Laren shouted. "What have we told you about running in the house."

A collective whine came from the two girls.

"Daddy, the house is too big," the blue one complained. "If we walk, Pearl's visit will be done by the time we got here."

"And we're not so big we'd flatten anyone yet."

"You're flattening _me_ right now!" Pearl said, the filling in the larger girls' sandwich. "You're already too damn big!" Pearl started grinding her fists into the other girls' cheeks. It looked painful for them but they just laughed.

"They seem close," Eight whispered with a soft smile.

"They are," Marina whispered back. "They look up to their big sister."

_Big sister?_ Eight looked at them again. True, the two larger girls did appear and act younger, but they were at least as tall as Marina, perhaps more. Given Pearl's own height, Eight expected Pearl's family overall to be on the short side, something meeting Diamond and Laren had supported, but now there were these two.

Suddenly, Eight stiffened. She didn't know why but the air in the room had changed. There was a presence now, a strong one. The girls stopped roughhousing and went silent and even Diamond seemed to sit up a little straighter.

Eight turned her head slowly to the right- the direction Pearl's sisters had come from, and what she saw caused seemed to steal the very breath from her body.

The servants standing in that part of the room were all bowing, the inklings among them turning their mantles white as a figure strode into the room.

The inkyora they bowed to was immense, at least twice the height of the tallest servant. She walked with an elegant poise and grace that belied her size. She had four long tentacles that nearly brushed the floor as she walked, as did the skirt of her long matching dress which swished gently with her steps. Her mantle looked like the surface of a tranquil ocean: waves of darker and lighter blues traveling from her head to the tips of her tentacles. Then there were her eyes. They were like gentle pools of sparkling liquid gold- the eyes of a goddess.

Eight couldn't help but stare, awed by her aura and the magnitude of her presence that owed little if anything to her height. She felt like she should get on her hands and knees with her face on the floor, unworthy to gaze upon this majestic creature, crafted by the Sovereign God's own divine and perfect handiwork.

Pearl was released from her sisters' grasp and stood, walking the short distance to the edge of the seating area where she stood and looked up at the massive inkyora as she approached and then stopped in front of her.

"I'm home, Mom."

The inkyora replied with a smile that could have outshone the sun. Her tentacles lifted Pearl up where her arms wrapped around her in a warm hug.

"Welcome home, my little Pearl."

Eight thought her chest might burst. So this _was_ Pearl's mother. She had seen mothers before in Inkopolis many times, but this was the first time it really felt like she was meeting one, the first time it met her vision of what a mother was: beautiful, gentle, loving, and somehow divine. She had such an aura about her and magnitude of presence that Eight couldn't tear her eyes away.

Pearl was set down and then those big beautiful eyes found Eight and she froze. Her mind spun, trying to remember where she was, what she was supposed to do and how to respond, searching rapidly through every memory to find something applicable.

Eight launched to her feet and fell to her knees, her head bowed. "Humblest and warmest greetings, Honored Mother. I'm Hachiko Brath Stonefeller Connko Turfer. Your presence enriches me."

The room was silent and it was only after a full second Eight realized that, in her panic, she had recited the formal greeting in Octese.

Her face flushed and her mind whirled anew, trying to think of a way to remedy the situation. Then a shadow fell over her and she glanced up to see Pearl's mother kneeling in front of her with deep understanding eyes and a kindly smile.

"I'll take that as a warm greeting." She said. Her voice was deep, but still distinctly feminine. "It's nice to finally meet you, Hachiko. I'm Jewel Pygmy. I'm Pearl's mother."

Eight couldn't even squeak in response. She felt so paralyzed.

"I think you broke her, Mom." Pearl said.

Jewel ignored her and instead, picked Eight up and cradled her in the crook of her arm as if she were a baby. Eight found herself clinging to a fold of her dress, bewildered.

"Nice to see you again, Marina." Jewel said.

"Likewise. Sorry, Hachiko is a bit… out of sorts."

Jewel laughed. "Well, most people are shocked when they see me for the first time."

Jewel carried Eight over to the couch and then sat next to Diamond.

"Laren, the girls weren't giving you trouble, were they?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle, love."

"You shouldn't have to handle anything."

"Now, darling, they're my kids too. I can't have you do all the work."

"Well, I'm sure they'll behave now, right?"

The girls all nodded, and Marina, a spectator, just smiled.

From there Pearl's mother started into conversation with Pearl, asking her how things had been going, what she had been up to and her future plans.

Meanwhile, Eight was still nestled in the crook of her arm, reality having somewhat gotten away from her. Part of her was supremely embarrassed by her behavior and the situation in which she currently found herself, but another part of her, perhaps even the larger part, didn't care. It felt comforted by Jewel's compassion, her warmth, her demeanor. It was everything she imagined a mother, even her own mother, ought to be like.

Inklings, even those in the NSS, just didn't understand - couldn't understand what mothers meant to Octolings. Eight and Marina hadn't seen theirs since they were two-years old. The vast majority of octolings wouldn't remember their mother's voice or even what they looked like by the time they reached five. And yet, despite all that, mothers influenced the rest of their lives.

Eight still remembered the songs her mother sang, the feelings she felt around her, and the feeling of being loved unconditionally. Every octoling, male or female, clung to those precious memories and feelings. Because when you were on camped out on long patrol, your second day without food, your morale at rock bottom and wondering what made life worth living, that was all you had to convince you.

_No, maybe that's not fair. Three lost her mother. Even if she knew her for longer she still understands the pain._

"Hachiko?" Eight flinched and glanced up at Jewel who was smiling down at her. "You've barely said anything. Are you alright?"

Eight bit her lip. What was she supposed to say? That suddenly she missed her mother again? That her emotions were tumbling down a long slope? That she wanted Jewel to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright?

Eight experienced vertigo as Jewel stood and adjusted her. "Why don't I show you around the house a little before lunch. I'm sure Pearl and Marina won't mind if I borrow you for a bit."

"Not at all," Marina said. "I'm sure she'd love a tour."

"Just stay out of my room," Pearl said, although she wore a smirk, as if it were some sort of joke between them.

Jewel just kept smiling and carried Eight out of the room and down a long corridor.

The hallway was decorated with paintings and pottery. They were quite varied; some depicting scenes while others more abstract, showing patterns and mixes of colours in ways that were somehow familiar to her yet seemed to depict nothing.

"So many…"

"Hm?" Jewel lifted her up slightly and looked directly into her eyes. Eight made a tiny squeak.

"Um, many paintings."

"Ah, yes. Well, I suppose it's one of those expectations for the rich to have many paintings in our home. Then again, having such long hallways without any decoration would make it seem pretty lonely. See any that you like?"

Eight looked at the paintings as they passed and then spotted a particularly large one made completely of different coloured geometric shapes in a wide range of sizes. Her eyes scanned it up and down several times, baffled by the complexity despite the simplicity of its components.

Jewel stopped and followed Eight's gaze. "You like this painting?"

"I think so. It is… interesting. I feel like it means something but I have no idea what."

"Lots of paintings are like that," Jewel said, her voice now even softer. "Sometimes even the artist doesn't know what their painting means."

Eight hummed. "We don't have anything like this back in the domes. We were told of some famous octarian artists during our education but it becomes irrelevant once we become recruits."

"So I've heard." Jewel gave her a gentle squeeze and then draped one of her tentacles over her. Eight wondered what it would be like to be coddled in those tentacles.

"Have you been adjusting to life here alright? You haven't had trouble fitting in? Nobody's picked on you?"

Eight hurriedly shook her head. "No! Everyone has treated me well. Pearl and Marina took me in so readily, gave me work, and I am learning more every day. It's wonderful here, and I love it."

Jewel looked relieved. She gently toyed with Eight's tentacles with her fingers. "I'm glad to hear that. Marina told me a lot about her past, the brutal growing up she had. It's truly remarkable she turned out so well. You too."

Eight nodded slowly, wondering how much Marina had actually told her. Had she told Jewel more than she had Pearl?

"I'm sure you didn't have the easiest time growing up either, but I hope you can at least make the rest of your life fulfilling."

Jewel started walking again, leaving the painting behind.

"I have already been having a wonderful fulfilling life," Eight insisted. She didn't want to give the impression that Pearl and Marina had been anything but wonderful to her.

"So I hear." A slow smile spread over Jewel's face and her eyes twinkled. "I hear you even got yourself a little girlfriend."

"Gah!" Eight's face flushed a deep shade of blue and she found herself averting her gaze. "W-well, we are not technically… a couple yet."

"Oh? But haven't you two already been dating? I heard that even though you were the one to confess, she was the one who asked you out on your first real date."

Eight felt her face somehow heat up even more. "B-but, surely that does not make us a real couple just like that."

Jewel chuckled. "Awww, but it might mean there's something there for you two. Maybe you'll be able to find that special spark that will make you a couple for real. Something other than hormones and inexperience." She sighed. "I wish Pearl could be as proactive as you."

Eight winced. "Um, I am sure Pearl is trying but now isn't the best time, not with the last splatfest coming up."

"I know I know, and I know it isn't easy to get back into dating after you've been burned. No, that's not fair. It was an amicable breakup, they just weren't right for each other. Such a shame. He's such a good boy."

"Pearl's old boyfriend?" Eight asked.

"Yes. They both changed so much during their teenage years I'm amazed they stayed together as long as they did."

"I see. So it is harder to try dating again after failing once."

"Very much so. It's very rare you find The One on your first try. The soul is a sensitive thing, and failing at love always hurts. You don't want to try again because you're afraid of hurting again." Her mantle darkened to a somber blue. "The first time you fall in love is special, because you will never love someone like that again."

Eight swallowed hard. "Honored mother, does that mean Three and I…"

"No," Jewel cut her off. "You should never assume that. If you do, you've all but doomed it to failure. Always love without reservation. If you can't do that, then don't waste your time. Especially when you're young, you have nothing really to lose."

"I-I see." Eight chewed on that thought for a moment. She wondered if "loving without reservation" was another name for what Three struggled with.

"Um… Honored Mother…"

Jewel looked down at her. "Is it Octarian custom that you're calling me that?"

Eight's voice caught. "Um… yes?"

"You can call me Jewel. I really don't mind."

Eight thought that a little too informal, especially to someone so obviously worthy to be respected as a mother. Not referring to a mother the title she was due was a terrible offence in their society.

_But she's not Octarian and she wants something less formal. If I really want to be respectful, I need to acknowledge her wishes._

"Would you mind if I called you, 'Tetka' then?"

"And what does that mean?"

"It is a kind of honorific - but one of affection. It is often how we refer to females who we see as maternal figures in the stead of our mothers."

"How sweet. I seem to recall Marina saying something about not being able to see her mother anymore."

"None of us can unless we become nurses or are fortunate enough to prove worthy of becoming mothers ourselves in some capacity."

"That's just awful. I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing my own children again, never seeing them grow up. I can't imagine what your own mother must have felt."

"It's not something we like to think or talk about," Eight replied quietly. "We just try to live as best we can, to honor them."

"I suppose there's nothing else you can do. I understand why you and Marina don't like talking about it. It's nothing to be ashamed of though. You're here now and when you have children, you should be able to see them grow up and have little ones of their own."

Eight winced. "I… I'm not sure I can even have children. I don't know if Marina told you this but only about one in five females are able to successfully lay eggs. The rest are either completely barren or only capable of producing deformed and sickly children, if they live long enough to hatch at all."

_Although I do have another means of making children._ She twitched her single androgenous tentacle subconsciously. It was still underdeveloped but it might eventually reach maturity and if it did, then she might be able to fertilize another female. She blushed at the mere notion of Three bearing her children. Would they be octolings or inklings? Could they have both? Would they have hybrids?

"Don't think so negatively. I have a good feeling that you will be able to have children. You just have to find the right boy."

"Y-yes, I suppose so." She would take whatever positivity she could get in that regard.

"Once we're finished our tour, we'll head to lunch. I have a surprise waiting for you and Marina."

Eight looked at her, wide-eyed. "A surprise? What surprise?"

Jewel laughed. "Well, if I told you, it wouldn't be a secret, now would it?"

Eight winced. "I… suppose not."

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll like it."

"I-I'm sure."

**Author's Notes:**

One pattern I've noticed in Splatoon fanfics is that while Pearl's father is often seen and/or mentioned, we rarely, if ever, hear about Pearl's mother. She obviously had to have one at some point. It was practically a blank slate for me to draw on and I came up with Jewel.

Now, many of you are probably wondering why Jewel and her younger sisters are so big. Well, in the Japanese version of Splatoon, Pearl's last name is Houzuki, which is derived from the Japanese name for the Colossal Squid. So, Pearl is half Northern Pygmy Squid, on her father's side, and half Colossal Squid on her mother's. Obviously, she got more from one than the other, heh heh.

This chapter was originally much longer and I had to cut it in half to make it more digestible so the pacing might be a bit weird this chapter and the next. Sorry about that. Even this section is over 5K words.


	14. Being a Pygmy

Eight was full of tension as she sat down at the table for lunch. Jewel had mentioned a surprise but she had yet to fathom what it could even be. She had said that both her and Marina would enjoy the surprise, so that probably meant something neither of them had experienced before, or perhaps even something Octarian.

_But how would _they _know about anything Octarian? Could Marina have told them?_

Jewel herself sat at one end of the table, Ruby and Sapphire sitting adjacent on her right and left side respectively. Eight sat next to Ruby with Marina sitting directly across from her. Pearl was on Eight's own right with Diamond sitting across from her, and Laren at the foot of the table.

The younger girls kept asking her questions about what she was doing, what it was like working for their big sister, and how her dating life was going. Apparently nobody knew the name of who she was dating. She wished she could be more forthcoming but, for now, she opted to keep Three's privacy.

Anytime they got a bit too pushy, Jewel's mantle would subtly shift, and then, despite looking in completely the opposite direction, Ruby and Sapphire would calm down, as if Jewel's will alone was enough. Eight was in awe seeing a mother's power at work.

Diamond, for her part, said very little, other than trading occasional barbs with Pearl, as if some obscure tradition or custom demanded they interact that way.

Finally, the double doors of the dining room opened, and a conch in a black suit led a group of servants wheeling serving carts. Once they were all inside, they stopped and faced Jewel, who flashed a simple green through her mantle, and then they moved.

Eight already knew what the servants would do. They carefully and gently set the dishes in front of each member at the table, careful to not lean over any of them. Then they stood back and waited for Jewel's command.

"Hachiko, Marina," she began, "I know you didn't have the best time growing up and it's full of unpleasant memories. I'm glad you're making the most of your new lives here in Inkopolis, but I thought it would bring you a little taste of what happiness your old lives brought you."

A short pause and then the servants removed the cloches covering the food. What they revealed were warm bowls filled with bits of different foods that Eight couldn't quite identify. She frowned, wondering what it was. The smell that filled her nostrils and it started nagging at a small corner of her brain. She knew this smell from somewhere, from some time. What was it?

"It looks funny," Sapphire muttered.

Jewel glared in her direction and Sapphire paled. The girl slouched in her seat as if being physically crushed. It sent a shiver down Eight's back.

"It does look a little strange," Marina offered gently.

"You don't recognize it?" Jewel asked.

"It does seem familiar, but I don't quite remember it."

"I see. Well, it was insisted to me that you would recognize it once you tasted it. So, why don't you and Hachiko take the first bite, hm?"

Marina and Eight looked at each other. Eight shrugged with her tentacles and picked up her fork, stabbing it into the bowl. The contents reminded her of pictures in cookbooks she had seen of turkey stuffing. She saw some pieces of meat and small chunks of vegetables mixed with a thick sauce. Again, the look and smell was painfully familiar but she couldn't identify it. The mixture was thick enough that the fork had no difficulty holding onto the contents.

_Something from our old lives? But what could it be?_ Eight finally brought it to her mouth, sliding it off the fork onto her tongue… and then her tastebuds exploded.

"Karthshii!"

Pearl leaned away from her, startled by her loud exclamation. "What?"

"Karthshii! It really is kartshii!"

Marina took a bite and her face went slack with shock as she locked eyes with Eight. "It really is. This is karthshii." Shen then turned her gaze to Jewel, eyes welling up. "H-how?"

Jewel smiled. "Well, we recently got an Octarian on our cooking staff. I asked her to make this. You can meet her after this, if you like."

"I'd love to!"

"Not to be rude," Pearl interrupted. "And not to dis the dish or anything, but it's obvious that it's some kind of big deal."

"It is!" Eight exclaimed. "Karthshii is given to every intake of octoling children when they turn five-years old. That is, they become a karth, a child between five and fourteen."

"Sometimes it's pronounced 'kart' and 'kartshii,' Marina added, still wiping away tears.

"Yes. It's a dish that most octolings will only eat once in their lifetime. It's a celebration of us living long enough to leave the nurseries and go on to general education."

"Every octoling remembers that one meal," Marina said. "Somehow we always remember that time when we ate the most delicious meal we would ever have. I thought that it wouldn't taste so remarkable since I've had so much good food in Inkopolis but it still tastes just as amazing as I remember."

"I'm glad you're not disappointed," Jewel said. "Now, why don't the rest of us try it."

Eight didn't expect as great a reaction from them. They had grown up with amazing food their whole lives, after all. They did seem to genuinely like it though, with Sapphire and Ruby even asking for seconds. Neither she nor Marina could bring themselves to have more than the one bowl they were given. It felt… wrong somehow.

Later, Eight excused herself from the table to use the bathroom. Pearl discreetly told her where it was and her directions proved easy to follow.

The bathroom was every bit as elaborate as one would expect for such a great house. Big and fancy, but nothing she hadn't seen before during her maid training.

_I can't believe I'm actually getting used to all this excess and opulence._ She thought. Maybe she needed to spend some time away from it all. The last thing she wanted was to become apathetic to people's financial circumstances.

Finished her business, Eight left the bathroom, but rather than going directly back to the dining room, she wandered back to the painting she had been looking at with Jewel earlier, and stared at it.

There was something to this painting, something she could not understand, but she was drawn to it. Something about the pattern and shape of the colours perhaps?

"Something catch your eye?"

Eight turned to see Diamond walking up to her. Even now it was a bit odd seeing someone who looked so much like Pearl walking with such poise and grace. The different mannerisms were a bit jarring as well.

"I… don't know," Eight admitted. "But something about this painting… intrigues me? Is that the word?"

"I believe it's acceptable. It's probably the most complimentary thing I've gotten from it."

Eight blinked, and then her jaw went a bit slack. "You made this painting?"

Diamond shrugged. "I entered it for a competition once. Never even placed, nor were the judges comments particularly encouraging."

Eight frowned. "But… how can you judge art that way? Is it not an expression of one's emotions and feelings?"

Diamond smirked. "You have obviously never met an art professor." Then she flashed grey and looked back at her painting.

"I don't remember what I was feeling when I made this. I'm not sure I knew it at the time either. It's the biggest painting I've ever made. It took more time and effort than anything else I've done too. Yet, it amounted to nothing."

"Not nothing," Eight insisted. "Surely the experience you gained and what you learned making it is valuable for your next work."

Diamond flashed grey, which Eight was starting to believe indicated ambivalence. "I don't know. Because art is subjective, it means there's every chance people won't like it. Artists are supposed to paint for themselves, not others, but everyone wants people to like their creations. Not everyone can be successful and famous at what they do."

Eight pressed her lips together into a thin line, her tentacles flattening against her head. Had that been bitterness creeping into her voice at the end?

"What are you girls talking about?"

Jewel appeared. Eight marveled at how she had managed to hide her presence for so long given how the very world seemed to change whenever she drew near.

"J-just about Diamond's wonderful painting."

"Don't patronize me," Diamond muttered.

"Diamond, I'm sure she wasn't patronizing you."

Diamond huffed and her mother pulsed blue. "Do you have any siblings, Hachiko?"

_Ah, so that _was _about Pearl._ "Yes ho- Tetka. I'm not sure how many, but I believe I was from a clutch of seven successful eggs."

"Seven? My, that is impressive. You will find very few inklings that can lay such large clutches."

"Or want to," Diamond quipped.

"Diamond," Jewel said warningly. "That attitude is why our population is in decline."

"I wasn't talking about myself, Mother, I meant the general population up till now. Our generation is expected to be far more prolific."

"Let's hope so, otherwise the Octarians will be the ones teaching us how to have babies." She winked at Hachiko who blushed slightly.

Still, that was a rather startling revelation. The inkling population was in decline? One would certainly never have guessed it from how many there were already. Inkopolis alone had a larger population than all of the domes combined.

"Don't let it pressure you," Diamond said. "Just have as many children as you feel you want. Make sure you don't bring it up to your girlfriend yet though. That's usually a kind of red flag."

Eight grimaced at the thought. Even with her inexperience with love and courtship she knew it was too early to even think about such things.

"Do you want children, Diamond?"

"Of course; I just want to be a mother they can be proud of first."

Jewel sighed audibly. "Sweetheart, I told you not to worry about that so much. Just be the best you that you can be."

"That's what I'm trying to do, Mother, but if I'm not happy with myself, how can I expect my offspring to be."

"They will love you regardless." Eight's interjection caused both inklings to look at her, but Eight didn't hesitate. "I have not seen my mother since I was two years old but I still love her. I still remember her love, the songs she used to sing, being held in her arms, and sometimes, when I was troubled, she would come to me in my dreams and comfort me again. I still love her with all my heart, even though I cannot remember her face or her voice. It does not matter to me what she accomplished or who she was, I only care that she is my mother."

The other two looked at her in a stunned silence that hung for several long moments before Hachiko shrank a bit and looked away. "I am sorry. I spoke out of turn."

Jewel knelt next to her and pulled her into a firm but gentle hug. "No, you said what needed to be said, dear. If it means anything, I think that your mother would be very proud of who you have become if she could see you now."

Means anything? Coming from another mother, one who seemed to embody everything Hachiko believed a mother to be, that meant the world!

Eight hugged her back, letting Jewel's warmth fill her. "Thank you." It was all she could think to say.

"You're welcome. Now, being a mother, I do have one or two little concerns. Would you mind helping me answer a few questions I have?"

"Of course not. I'd love to help any way I can."

"Lovely. Come, let's go talk in the study. Diamond, you come too."

Diamond's mantle changed to a pale yellow with purple-red ripples but followed along obediently behind Jewel with Eight as she led them to the study and shut them all inside.

"Now, Hachiko, you have been living with Pearl and Marina for about three months, yes?" She gestured for them to sit down in some plush maroon armchairs. None of them looked big enough for Jewel and she remained standing.

Eight could see her mantle shifting and changing beneath the surface, changing the shade and tone of her natural colour slightly. Eight wasn't sure what that meant but she could see what looked like concern on her face.

"Yes, about that long. They have treated me very well. I could not be happier where I am."

"I'm glad, but that wasn't what I wanted to talk about."

"O-oh… I see."

Jewel's mantle changed to a dark blue, like the deep sea, and rippled. "I know this will be an awkward question, but what is your opinion on Pearl and Marina's relationship?"

Eight frowned. "I am not sure I understand the question."

"Please," Jewel said, her voice suddenly sounding tired and worn. "I know it's a strange question but please answer as best you can."

Eight's tentacles pressed against her head and then curled outwards, but she obeyed and thought hard.

"Well, they argue sometimes but always work things out eventually. They said they try to follow a rule where they never go to bed still angry at each other. They tease and make fun of each other a lot, but not the same way they do on the news. They seem to do everything together, even when they're not performing the same activity. Like Marina will read her book while Pearl leans her back against her reading her phone." She gave a little shrug with her tentacles. "I am not sure how else to answer."

"They certainly sound chummy," Diamond agreed. "But we already figured that. They seem more comfortable with each other than when we first met Marina."

"Yes," Jewel agreed. "But, Hachiko, would you say their relationship seems… romantic at all, even just sometimes?"

Eight's brows furrowed in thought. "I suppose? I am still not sure where the line between friendship and romance is but-." Then she realized it, what Jewel was really asking. It was, more or less, what she was trying to do with Three, and had Three not properly explained the concept, she would never have guessed it.

"You're asking if they might become bondmates."

Jewel stiffened and Diamond chuckled.

"I'm impressed you know about it. Many other species can spend years here without knowing about the custom."

"My- that is, the girl I am trying to date, her family is… what's the world? Expanded?"

"_Epeso_, but yes, that makes sense. Girls from an espeso family are more likely to get a bondmate themselves. Those who aren't tend to be less comfortable with the practice."

"Epeso," Eight repeated, practicing the word.

"Because 'expanded' family can mean many different things, so the original word never fell out of use. It's much more clear.

"They were much more common two-hundred years or so ago. Due to the destruction of the Great Turf war, rampant reproduction was discouraged until things could get back together. It remains a controversial decision to this day. Unfortunately, now we're paying for that and our population is in decline, which leaves it up to our generation to breed like crazy to fix things."

"I see." So the Octarians weren't the only ones who had to control hatching rates in light of diminished resources and infrastructure, the inklings apparently had too; except, when the resources became available again, they didn't resume their previous levels of reproduction.

"I'm asking because I'm worried." Jewel said softly.

"Because of Marina?" Eight asked.

"Sovereign God and all the heavens, no. I think Marina is the best thing to happen to Pearl in her adult life. I might be a bit worried _for_ her, but not because of her."

"Mother, perhaps you should tell Hachiko what your concern actually is so she can have a bit more context and provide better responses."

Jewel exhaled and her mantle rippled again.

"Hachiko, do you understand what bonding involves?"

"Bonding under the White Lily? Yes, I believe so. It is like marriage, in many ways, but also different."

"Yes, it means sharing a life and future with someone. Do you know what would happen if Pearl and Marina were bonded, for example?"

"Um… they would legally become family?"

"Yes, and Marina would take Pearl's surname and become a member of our family officially."

"And all the difficulties that involves," Diamond sighed.

"Difficulties?" Eight asked.

"Yes," Jewel said. "When I married Laren, that meant I had all the responsibilities that come with being the wife to the head of the most wealthy family in the country. You have to look a certain way, behave a certain way, not to mention dealing with all the gossip hounds and the like. Finally, there are people's expectations. Those are the worst."

Eight gave a worried look. "Expectations?"

"Yes. Even if Pearl thinks Marina is amazing, even if we do, it won't matter if certain other people don't."

Eight frowned, wondering who she might be talking about, when Diamond spoke.

"What Mother means is that marrying into the family means dealing with an additional circle of people. That means the political and business elite, potential investors, business partners, and so on, and it's of a very different nature than what they might deal with now."

Eight nodded slowly. "I have noticed that Marina tends to leave most of those things to Pearl."

"Because Pearl has been exposed to this sort of thing since she hatched. We've raised her and trained her from a young age to know how to deal with these sorts of things. Even if she pretends to ignore it and its value, she actually understands perfectly well."

Eight crossed her arms thoughtfully. "But if Pearl actually does want Marina to be her bondmate, she wouldn't let anything get in her way. She would ask her if she really wanted to. I know she would."

Diamond chuckled and Jewel smiled. "I'm afraid you don't understand Pearl as well as you think you do, little one. Pearl is the one getting in her own way."

Eight gaped. "What? Pearl is?"

"Yes. If she loves Marina, then of course she wouldn't want her to put her through all that, and have her deal with it."

"Not to mention the other issue with bonding," Diamond interjected. "Being bonded means sharing a mate as well, which means it has to be someone who suits both of you, someone both of you can love and happily mate and raise children with."

"Ah…" Eight hadn't considered that. Actually, that could be another thing that had caused Three to hesitate regarding their relationship. There was a lot of uncertainty there. She didn't even know how a bonded couple would go about finding a mate.

Eight suddenly sat up straight. "Pearl _has _been thinking about it!"

"Oh?" Jewel asked. "That sounds interesting."

Eight nodded, now certain. "On the way here, Pearl was asking us about how octolings go about finding and choosing mates."

Diamond smirked. "Yes, that certainly sounds like she's been thinking about it."

"Which is what I thought," Jewel sighed, her mantle rippling violently. "That's why she's been dallying with her dating life. She's debating whether or not to pop the question to Marina."

Eight gasped, her tentacles flaring. "She is? Really?" She couldn't barely believe it, not because she doubted Pearl's sincerity for a second, but because she hadn't realized things were like that between them already. Vague speculation was one thing but this was something much more concrete.

_But what if Marina refused?_ Eight could scarcely imagine it, perhaps because she didn't want to, but what if she did? Would it ruin her and Pearl's relationship forever? Would Off the Hook end just like that? Many of the romance stories she had come across worried about that sort of thing. Potential couples, childhood friends, afraid to take the plunge because of that possibility, because they might lose what they had.

"Pearl might be thinking things are fine as they are," Diamond said. "After all, they're already close and Marina might want to choose her own mate. Maybe what they have is enough and they can be happiest as soulmates instead."

Eight's brows scrunched, remembering Four's explanation of soulmates from months ago. As best she could remember, it was as close as two girls could be without being bonded. She supposed that would more or less describe Pearl and Marina's current relationship. But what was beyond that? She didn't even know.

Jewel took in a deep breath and straightened. "Well, thank you, Hachiko for answering my concerns. I think I have a good idea of what's going on now."

Eight bowed her head. "I was happy to help."

"Yes, well, don't mention any of this to them, or anyone else, understand? This conversation never happened."

Eight nodded earnestly. "I promise."

"Good, then let's get back to the others. I'm sure they're wondering where you got off to and Ruby and Sapphire are just dying to ask you more questions."

"Ah….

Eight quickly pushed that to the back of her mind they left the study and went back down the hall.

Three had also said she was dealing with things before she tried again to date her better. Now Eight had a lot more context for that. She obviously wasn't talking about bonding but she was trying to get things out of the way so that Eight wouldn't be burdened with anything that might interfere with their relationship or perhaps poison it.

_I'm glad I understand that better now, and I can use this knowledge to better understand Three and our relationship._ But she would never be able to look at Pearl and Marina the same way again. Never.

"So, you survived the experience." Pearl said as they rode the long car- a limo, it was apparently called, back home. Eight was sitting on one of the bench seats in the middle of the car while Pearl and Marina sat together on the back seat.

"It was not difficult," Eight said confidently. "Your family is very warm and loving. I wish I could have gotten to know your father better. He barely spoke at all."

"Daddy's the strong silent type," Pearl said, smiling.

"The opposite of you in many ways," Marina smirked.

"My being loud and strong are two separate things," Pearl insisted. "One doesn't depend on the other."

"They seem to help each other out a lot, especially after we visit your family, you tend to be a lot louder than normal for a while."

"That's because I have to be so sodding quiet at home. I've got to get the loud back out or I'll explode."

"Really? Could have sworn that's how you normally sounded after coming from home."

"Hey!"

Eight couldn't help but smile. Whatever friction there had been between Pearl and Marina earlier seemed gone now. They were back to their usual selves.

_But could they be more than this? Would it be worth it for both of them? Would Marina be willing to live that kind of life to be with Pearl?_

"I didn't get a chance to ask this before," Pearl said, interrupting Eight's thoughts. "But Mom and Diamond didn't do anything weird to you while you were gone, did they?"

Eight frowned. "No, they did not; we just talked. Um, there was the painting. Yes, Diamond's painting. We were discussing that and things went on from there."

"Oh," Pearl looked away. "Yeah… that."

"It's too bad she didn't win," Marina said. "I was really rooting for her."

"Stupid judges," Pearl growled.

"Pearlie, you always say you don't 'get' art."

"Doesn't mean I don't care," Pearl said sourly. "Diamond's a stuck up _togaira_ but she's still my sister." She looked out the car window, resting her chin on her hand. "It's not easy living up to the Pygmy name even if you try to do everything right."

Eight wasn't sure what that meant but she thought it best not to ask right now. She already had a lot to think about. Maybe it had to do with the expectations Jewel and Diamond talked about.

"I thought her painting was pretty. I am sure she will one day win a competition if she keeps trying."

Pearl nodded. "But it takes a while to get over the pain of people trodding over something you've loved and laboured over for months. I know that feeling and it's not great."

"Ah, yes, I suppose music would also be a form of art."

"Not everyone thinks so, but it is," Pearl agreed. "Even Diamond thinks so. She just doesn't think _my_ music is art."

"Pearl, I'm sure she was just teasing."

"Yeah yeah. Eight, just so you know, my family isn't typical. Don't base all inkling families off of them."

"I will try not to," Eight said with a smile. "But they do seem wonderful, especially your mother. Although I have to admit…"

Pearl grinned knowingly. "You didn't expect her to be so tall."

Eight grimaced, and her tentacles curled outwards. "Um, something to that effect. I suppose I was also confused by the fact she took your father's name. I thought it was custom for the male to take the female's name."

"Yeah, but not every guy is heir to the largest fortune in the country. Plus, a female can choose to take her husband's name as a sign of respect, making him head of the family instead of her."

"I see. Well, I am certain your mother would never take a mate if he were of anything less than stellar quality."

Pearl smirked. "She would for the right price."

Eight frowned. "Pardon?"

Pearl shrugged. "I don't know if you noticed, but being of Colossal Squid descent isn't exactly cheap. All your clothes are big, you can't always use regular furniture, and you eat a lot. So, what's the best way for a girl like that to survive?"

Eight frowned. "Um… find a means of supporting herself in spite of those things?"

"Right, by marrying into a rich family."

Eight gave Pearl a blank look. "I still do not understand. That makes perfect sense to me."

Pearl sighed. "I'm saying Mom didn't marry Daddy because she loved him, she just married him for his money."

Eight eyes went wide with shock, her image of Jewel, the kindly, perfect, image of a mother and a female crumbling. The back of her head saw no practical issue. After all, mating for love was a foreign concept to most octarians. However, Eight had been spending the past couple of months learning about love, about how wonderful it was to spend your life with someone who meant the world to you, about how badly she wanted Three to love her.

This revelation meant that Jewel discarded all of that, completely at odds with how much more meaningful relationships were supposed to be in the surface world. It was like a betrayal of those principals Eight had come to hold dear.

"What? Surely not."

"It's true. Mom beat off every other suiter and managed to seduce and otherwise convince Dad that she was the best one for him. Not hard when the size difference is so big. See, in Inkling society, the bigger the difference in size between a guy and his girl, the more studly he's perceived, and Daddy is the smallest squid species while mom's the biggest."

"Didn't he love her?"

"Oh, he was totally head over heels for her." Pearl laughed. "He's weak to strong girls."

"Pearlie," Marina sighed. "You make your mother sound like such a villainess."

"She _was_ a villainess," Pearl insisted. "A sodden gold digger." She looked back at Eight. "Sorry to ruin your image of my perfect mother."

"Pearl," Marina said in a warning tone. "Finish the story. You're going to make her cry."

"Alright, geez. Anyway, the mom you met today isn't the same one."

Eight's face, already looking mortified, twisted into an ugly expression of confusion. Pearl went on.

"Mom and Dad married, Mom took his name, Mom was happy, and as long as she lived comfortably she was content with doing whatever wifely things she was expected to do. All she had to do was pretend to be the loving, devoted wife. Only, she broke.

"After she got eggnant with me and Diamond, she started to feel guilty. She started losing her mind, especially when they started visiting temples to pray for healthy eggs. What she didn't know at the time was that the priestesses knew she had married Dad purely for… practical reasons. Normally, that would be grounds to refuse a marriage, but they didn't. So, when she went to the temple and they saw her cracking, they pushed, trying to make her feel even more guilty."

"What?" Eight asked. "Why would they allow the marriage if they knew?"

"I'm getting there. Eventually, Mom went in the tank, that's where we lay our eggs, and after she laid us, she finally broke. She called for the priestess who had married them and confessed everything. She couldn't live the lie anymore and it turned out she had come to actually, genuinely love Daddy."

Eight let out a breath she had been unconsciously holding, suddenly feeling a sense of relief. "That is good, I think. But, what happened next? It must have been alright."

"Well, Daddy knew the whole time and the priestess knew the whole time, but the priestess said she knew that Mom already loved Dad when they married. After all, she had other rich guys who would have made easier targets, but she persisted after Daddy."

Eight smiled. "Of course, a priestess would know."

"She's a good one alright. She's practically family now. Anyway, Daddy forgave her and everything and Mom promised to be a genuinely good wife and to do her super very best to raise us kids."

"I'm still wondering if she succeeded or not in your case," Marina smirked.

"I'll tell her you said that."

"No you won't."

"Wanna bet?"

"But, wait!" Eight yelled, cutting off their argument. "How do you know this? Did she tell you?"

"Priestess Dalanna - see, that's the priestess from the story, told us when we were old enough. At Mom's request."

Eight winced. "You must have been shocked."

"Beyond shocked. Diamond and I couldn't speak- not a word, Marina."

Marina only grinned. "I wasn't even thinking anything."

Pearl ignored her and her voice suddenly went quiet and soft. "We were honestly a little hurt too. I mean… she's Mom. We trusted her totally, and suddenly we find out that we were conceived by basically an illegitimate marriage. But the priestess said that we were, in fact, love children because it was our existence that drove Mom to come clean and actually realize she really did love Daddy."

"But surely there was no way you could have looked at her the same again."

"No, but we didn't love her any less. Actually, it felt good, knowing she changed for us, because she loved us too. That's why we were all named after precious things, so that she could remind herself what was most important."

Eight finally smiled. "That sounds lovely."

"Yup. Mom's really the best, now, but she wasn't always."

"That's fine," Eight said. "Nobody is hatched that wonderful. In the end, it doesn't change how I see her. As she is now, she's still everything I think a mother should be."

Pearl smiled. "Yeah, she's the best."

"You should tell her that once in a while," Marina told her.

"I know, I know."

Eight giggled. "You know, I see a lot of her in you, Pearl."

Pearl's head snapped over to stare straight at her. "Huh? Seriously? Her? Me? Wait, do you mean the old her or-"

"The her I know now. You both take care of your family to the point you can't help yourself, even if it makes things more difficult for you, and I can see you becoming the same sort of mother she is."

The back of the limo went silent, save for the soft roar of the tires as they rode along. Pearl looked genuinely astounded, more so than Eight could remember. It nearly made her laugh.

"She's right," Marina said softly, taking hold of Pearl's hand. "I think you'll make a wonderful mother some day, Pearlie, the kind every octoling imagines and dreams of every night." Marina leaned her head on top of Pearl's and caressed the inkling's cheek with her long front tentacle. Pearl coloured slightly and Eight could see her fingers give Marina's a little squeeze.

"Think so, huh?"

"I know so."

The scene playing out on the back seat was a little strange for Eight because she was seeing it in a different light since her discussion with Jewel and Diamond. On the one hand, this seemed like a nice and wonderful place for their relationship, but a large part of her wished the best they could get. If bonding could give that for them, then maybe, just maybe, they should go for it. She had a feeling Marina was well aware of the difficulties it would bring and probably didn't care. After all, surely it was nothing compared to life in the domes.

Pearl caught her staring and Eight realized she was grinning stupidly and quickly turned her head away. She felt Pearl's burning gaze on her another few seconds before she heard the inkling cry out.

"Rancid barnacles! I can't hide _anything_ from Mom."

Eight couldn't help but burst out laughing, leaving Marina, bemused and shaking her head at the both of them.

**Author's Notes:**

For those of you who have been hoping for more Pearlina, I hope this answers your questions.

So, Pearl has been thinking about some serious things, Pearl's mom wasn't always perfect, and Eight has a different perspective on her own relationship with Three. I wasn't sure if I should leave the thing with Pearl's mom at the end. I'm still not, to be honest, but I don't feel bad leaving it in. Let me know what you think.


	15. Bodyguard Baby

"Dinner!"

Purdie's call echoed through their little house, but she didn't wait to see if anyone replied. Dekin never missed a dinner call and Cortina had hearing like a bat.

She went to the kitchen sink to wash her hands and jerked when she felt her middle touch the countertop..

Her ink sac was bulging outwards now, out of all proportion to the actual size of her eggs. Her two nutrieae were also swelling larger, pushing out of her chest like a pair of grapefruit and warm with their business of adding nutrition to the ink in her sac to then be absorbed by her eggs. It was a bit overwhelming dealing with all the changes to her body and the effects it had. She was glad that life for them had gotten fairly quiet recently. It made new developments in her eggnancy easier to deal with.

_Like outgrowing some of my clothes._

It had only been a handful of items, but in the coming few months, there would be little from her original wardrobe she would be able to wear until she finally laid her eggs and her ink production wound down.

Dekin arrived in the kitchen first. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her close. "How are you doing, love bun? You didn't wear yourself out making all this dinner, did you?"

"No, I'm fine," she said, trying not to sound exasperated. She better understood now why Fulvia had been so irritable when she had been eggnant with Cortina. "We need to eat plenty ourselves so it's not as much work as you think."

He chuckled and patted her back. "I still wish you'd let me help."

"I appreciate the thought, but frankly, dear, I'd rather you let me handle the kitchen."

"Hey, I've gotten better."

"I know, I know, but even so..."

She trailed off as Cortina entered the room. She had been dealing with some things recently, the usual teenage issues of learning about love and relationships, so Purdie expected her to look bothered, but this time, her mantle was rippling with anxious yellows and she kept her gaze downwards as she sat down at the table.

Purdie gestured for Dekin to take his seat and then sat in her own spot. As head of the family, she led them in grace and then they began the meal.

Purdie focused on her own plate for the first minute or so, and then looked up and to her right where her daughter sat.

Cortina didn't quite pick at her food, but she was eating much less earnestly than usual. Her brows were knitted, her mantle still rippling subtly. She was obviously nervous about something, and in deep thought about it. But what could it be?

She had come home late the other night. She had gone out for the day with her date- although she hadn't called it that, and had dinner at her "friend's" place. It was good to see Cortina finally coming out of her shell. She had isolated herself so much after Fulvia's death that they were worried she might become a shut-in. Now that she had a… well, probably not a girlfriend just yet, but someone she liked, maybe she would get out more. Unless something went wrong.

Purdie pulsed blue. "Cortina, what's wrong?" Cortina looked up, her mantle shimmering once. "You look like something's bothering you. Did something happen the other night?"

A faint ripple of orange and a slight dilation of her pupils. She hadn't hit the nail on the head but based on that reaction she hadn't been too far off the mark.

"Nothing happened, really, I just… have things to think about…"

"I see. Anything you actually want to talk about?"

It was unusual for Cortina to talk this much. Typically she would have given simple answers in tuk'yan. Even so, Purdie was surprised when she said, "maybe?"

Purdie looked over at Dekin, who appeared to be lost in thoughts of his own. He had been doing that more often since her eggnancy. Well, as the breadwinner, the pressure was on him, she supposed, and Cortina wasn't exactly small anymore, but now wasn't the time for it.

She gently whacked his arm with her tentacle to knock him back down to Earth and gestured with her eyes to Cortina. He wore that blank look all inkyar seemed to share whenever they were suddenly snapped back to reality and into a situation where he had absolutely no idea what was going on. She tried not to look irritated, but it was hard. She just looked back at Cortina to save herself the trouble.

"So, what's bothering you?"

For an eyeblink, her mantle turned the same colour as the inside of an orange peel and then went back to a darker shade of her natural green.

"I… got a job offer."

Purdie and Dekin both perked up. "A job offer?"

"That's great!" Dekin exclaimed. "It was that job at that concert you did a couple of months ago, wasn't it?"

Cortina pulsed blue. She was still staring down at the table and hadn't met their gazes. Something was off.

"What kind of job is it?" Purdie asked.

"A... live-in... job."

Silence. Purdie and Dekin looked at each other, and then back at Cortina who was sinking into her chair, her colour almost blending into the wood of her seatback.

"You can't be serious," Dekin said at last. "You barely leave the house because you hate interacting with people and yet you're considering a live-in job?"

"It's a very good job," Cortina insisted, somewhat meekly. "Well paying."

"You can't expect me to believe that you'd willingly go and live in some stranger's house just for a few extra gees."

"They're not strangers," Cortina insisted. She met Dekin's eyes this time, her voice stronger and a small flicker of scarlet whipped through her mantle. "I've known them for years. They've helped me a lot and this is my chance to help them."

"Help them how?" Purdie asked. "I thought this was a job."

"It is a job they want me for, a job I can do better than anyone else they could get."

"A maid?" Dekin asked incredulously. "You're constantly having to be told to clean your own room."

Cortina flushed and her mantle darkened slightly. "They're not asking me to be a live-in maid, Dad. They want me as a…" Her burst of courage and assurance suddenly slipped.

"A what?" Dekin asked firmly.

"A… bodyguard…"

Purdie gasped and Dekin stared at her. They were both incredulous. How could their mild-mannered, shy little girl possibly be a bodyguard, or a guard of any kind?

Dekin sighed and rubbed a hand over his head. "Sweetheart, I think they were joking."

"They were not." Cortina's reply was flat, firm, and devoid of the slightest doubt. The affirmativeness of it was a little unsettling.

There wasn't much point asking her who these people were. They wouldn't know them even if she answered clearly, but it was obvious that whoever they were had their hooks in her deep.

Cortina had always been a shy, lonely girl, easy to bully, and Purdie had worried people might take advantage of that. It didn't seem like she was being bullied but perhaps manipulated through some guise of assistance or friendship. Cortina was not particularly gullible but kids her age could be easily misled. Of course, being a teenager, Cortina would never listen to any argument that said whoever these people were could possibly be manipulating her, so there had to be some way of getting her to reconsider. Perhaps even Cortina herself had some ulterior motive. Was the girl she was dating one of these people?

She shared a glance with Dekin and could tell he was thinking much the same. But how to move forward? Cortina was obviously determined to argue, her soul set on this job, but for her and Dekin this whole situation was a forest of red flags.

"Cortina," Dekin said. "You have to understand that we can't just let you go off to live with some people we've never met before, especially not at your age."

Cortina pulsed burgundy, telling him he wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. "But you trust me, don't you?"

Dekin's mantle rippled. He grimaced slightly and Purdie felt a pang of guilt.

As head of the family and as a mother figure, Purdie was supposed to take the lead in such discussions. Verbal communication was supposed to be the forte of inkyora compared to inkyar, but with her hormones so unbalanced due to her eggnancy and stress the current situation put on them, she didn't trust herself to keep her cool. Right now she was mostly instinct and her instincts were screaming at her to keep their child safe at home, regardless of her wishes.

"Of course I trust you," Dekin said slowly. He had been doing a good job up until now but he was starting to falter a bit. Purdie knew that the longer this conversation went on, the more likely Cortina would gain control of it. "It's just that… well, you're young, inexperienced. Getting a live-in job at your age is a bit… much, isn't it?"

From most other teens, that would have provoked an uproarious response and denial, but Cortina simply displayed red in disagreement, as if she had been expecting that argument before the discussion ever began.

"Lots of kids are already moved out by my age, you've even said so yourself. I wouldn't even consider this if I didn't think it was important. You know I wouldn't just abandon you and Iya when there are babies coming."

The thought had honestly never occured to Purdie. Cortina had always been shy and rather timid, but she always has a strong sense of responsibility, something she had inherited from Dekin. They would never think she was just trying to get away for her own sake.

"That isn't the issue. We've never met or even heard of these people you suddenly want to live with. If you were really that close to them, you would have probably mentioned them to us, right? As far as we know, you don't have much in the way of friends at all."

That might have been a bit strong, perhaps even mean, but it was true, even accounting for the fact that Dekin didn't know about Cortina dating someone. Cortina's reaction was a wave of guilt through her mantle and a matching look on her face, her strong, stalwart posture bending.

"I couldn't. It had to be a secret. I couldn't tell anyone about them, not just you."

Purdie frowned. "Why would that be? What reason could you have to keep your friendship with someone a secret?"

A slow pulse of red. "I can't tell you."

"Well, it's not happening then." Dekin said firmly. "We are not letting you go off to live with people we've never even met. We trust you, Cortina, but you're asking us to put faith in someone else for the welfare of our child. That's too much to expect."

Cortina looked at him, her mantle a muddy brown. She glanced over at Purdie, whose decision it ultimately was. Purdie said nothing. She couldn't disagree with Dekin. She felt the same way, but probably even more strongly. She kept seeing the little six-year-old the three of them had raised overlaid on the teen sitting at the table. She couldn't just let that precious little girl run off on her own.

Cortina pulsed blue and scooted back from the table. She stood and headed out of the kitchen, removing her phone from her pocket, her dinner unfinished.

Once she was out of earshot, Dekin leaned towards her.

"Did I mess up?"

Purdie flashed red. "You probably did better than any other father would do in the same situation. Sorry you had to do all that."

He smiled thinly. "Well, I am a parent too, after all. I feel better knowing I don't have to be like so many fathers, seen but not heard."

That was something of the stereotype. Many males felt like they were just tag-alongs in the family, with the wife or wives always handling everything, from the finances to the family affairs. These days, many felt their sole purpose was to provide, assuming the wife didn't take care of that as well. It was no wonder that hatch rates were at a historical low. Cortina's generation would have to breed like sunfish to get the population stable again.

Cortina herself reappeared in the kitchen, her previously calm demeanor replaced by a deep concern and worry. Panicky yellows rippled through her mantle and she almost appeared to be shaking.

"What's wrong?" Purdie asked.

Cortina sat down heavily in her chair. "They're coming."

"Who? These people you were talking about?"

She flashed green, very quick, and Purdie started to panic as well. Even if she didn't know who they were, she assumed they were people of some status or importance to want a bodyguard.

"But-but the house isn't clean! And we're still in the middle of dinner."

"The house is fine, Iya, and they won't be here for a while yet. I'll do the dishes so you don't have to worry about it."

"But you still could have discussed inviting them over with us first," Dekin chided her.

"Sorry," she replied meekly. "It's important and it just seemed… like the right thing to do."

Puride sighed, forcing herself to keep her. "Well, what's done is done. Let's just finish supper and try to clean the house up a little. Cortina, make sure your room is clean and your bed is made."

"I know."

Purdie tried not to be nervous, but it was difficult. This wasn't how she expected to feel when finally meeting Cortina's friends. The fact that Cortina herself was also anxious, didn't help things. Dekin paced back and forth in the centre of the room. So, when the doorbell rang, the three of them nearly jumped.

Dekin, already on his feet, headed there first. Cortina tried to follow but Purdie forced her back down on the couch. She would go before her, ready to intervene and protect their little girl if it came down to that. She sincerely hoped Cortina had been more judicious with her company than that, but it seemed a parent's prerogative to assume the worst.

From where they stood, next to the up-stairs, they could see into the porch and through the doorway. The tension ratcheted up to its peak as Dekin grasped the door knob and pulled it open.

Outside, the sun had completely set and bugs were buzzing around the porch light. Standing in its faint glow, with the light of the street lamps behind them were two tall, young inkyora, and to her shock, she knew them. Dekin did too, and he stood there, frozen in the doorway.

"Dad," Cortina chided. "You're letting all the bugs in."

Jolted back into animation, Dekin stepped out of the way, letting the two biggest celebrities in the world into their humble suburban home.

Purdie knew of the Squid Sisters of course. Was there anyone who didn't? They blew up around the time Cortina turned fourteen. She had just started listening to popular music at the time. Purdie, being a typical housewife, inevitably saw them on the multitude of talk shows and cooking shows she watched. She was well aware of what big names they had become since those days, but what were they doing in her house?

Cortina gently pushed past her and helped their new guests put their coats on the nearby hooks.

Callie was dressed in a black halter top and long magenta skirt, making her outfit appear similar to a backless dress. Marie wore a simple short, silver dress with lime-green lining the inside of the skirt. Both girls wore stockings of magenta and green respectively.

Callie removed her dress shoes and started quickly up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Marie demanded.

"To her room. I'm finally gonna' get to see it." She kept going and Cortina, alarmed, ran after her.

"Behave yourself. We're guests here." Marie's mantle flickered burgundy in irritation then she faced Purdie and bowed.

"Honored to finally meet you. We've learned a lot about you from your daughter."

Purdie was at a loss for words. She was still trying to wrap her head around the situation. She glanced over at Dekin who looked equally bewildered. Purdie forced herself to calm down and fell back on the manners and protocol drilled into her at a young age.

"Welcome to our home. We're honored to have you. Would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely."

Purdie went back to the kitchen, doing her best not to look hurried. She already had the kettle set to boil in anticipation of company but now she took out her best teas, something she normally saved for special occasions. If this didn't count, she didn't know what did.

Dekin wandered into the kitchen after her, still not over his own shock. She could imagine the sorts of things going through his head though.

They had called Cortina shy earlier, yet she was far more confident now than she had been two years ago. How had that shy, timid girl gotten involved with two of the biggest celebrities in the world? What could she have possibly done for the stars to align in such a way to arrive at that result?

As she waited for the water to come up to temperature, she watched Marie out of the corner of her eye. The young inkyora walked with enviable grace into the living room and, as if she had been there before. She turned and faced Fulvia's picture, displayed on the small shelving unit. She knelt and opened her purse, producing a small yellow flower and placing it next to Fulvia's picture before bowing her head and folding her hands in prayer.

Purdie was beside herself. What Marie was doing was the height of good manners and respect as a guest, but more than that, it meant she already knew that Fulvia was dead and where they put her picture. The former made sense for a friend of two years, for most people, but she still found it difficult to imagine Cortina revealing such personal information to anyone. She always imagined her keeping even those she considered friends at arm's length. The fact Cortina must have told them where the picture was spoke of something deeper than she thought possible.

The kettle clicked, and Purdie began pouring the tea. She should have asked which kind Marie would like but she doubted she even had it.

Marie came over and sat down at one of the long sides of the table, her purse on her lap. Dekin seemed to be avoiding looking in her direction. He was probably still collecting his wits.

"You have a very nice home," Marie commented. "Reminds me of where I grew up."

"Ah… thank you." Purdie wasn't sure what else she could say without making it sound shallow. "Do you take anything with your tea?"

"No, it's fine. This is a sudden visit, so don't worry yourself too much about it, ma'am."

_Ma'am_, Purdie echoed in her head. That's right, this was still her house, her domain. She was still the authority here. She had to keep calm and she couldn't let Dekin take the burden on himself to do the talking. This was her responsibility.

Purdie started to pour the tea into cups when Callie and Cortina returned from upstairs.

"Marie, her room is so cute! It's just like the ones you see in movies for the girl-next-door."

"Callie, if she was the girl-next-door type, we wouldn't be here right now."

Callie laughed. "Yeah, that's more F-Tani, isn't it?"

There was a detectable pause before Marie replied, "Yeah, maybe."

Purdie turned again towards the table. Callie had sat on the other end of the table's long side with Cortina squeezed between them. The line in the sand had been drawn. Honestly, it hurt a little, seeing Cortina so firmly in the opposite camp, but she supposed it was natural.

Purdie distributed the tea and sat beside Dekin who had moved to the long side of the table opposite them.

Marie took a sip of the tea and gently put it back down on her saucer. " Just to get the formalities out of the way, I am Marie Sansea, and this is my cousin, Calabria Cuttlefish."

"Callie is fine," the latter girl said with just a hint of irritation.

"And, to make it plain," Marie went on, "we would like to hire Cortina as a live-in bodyguard. That would involve her travelling with us to the vast majority of our events, protecting us from the like of potential assaults, harassers, stalkers, etcetera. We will be paying her, of course, and she will get a minimum of two-weeks vacation not counting the times she comes with us on our own vacations."

Just based on their public personalities, Purdie suspected Marie would be the one to do the talking. It was straight to business as well. No pretense, no condescension, just to the point. She appreciated that, she supposed.

"But why her?" Purdie asked. "She's even younger than you are and it would take a long time to train her up to the standards you would need." She was trying to keep any emotional arguments out of this. Those were a last resort. Cortina was young but not stuipd. She would not be dissuaded by purely emotional arguments, it would require sound logic to change her mind.

"A fair question," Marie conceded. "The honest truth is that it's because we trust Cortina implicitly, which is extremely important given our lifestyle, the troubles we face, and the idea of her living with us."

"But how long have you known her?" She knew what Cortina had said, but she wanted to hear it from them and see if it would match.

"Two years. I know that might not seem like a long time to you, but for us, it's quite a while, and we've experienced much together during those two years."

Dekin leaned forward, his eyes narrowing at Cortina. "This wouldn't have to do with those times you were away from home for a week or more, would it?"

Cortina sank lower in her chair before she flashed green in acknowledgement. "I did say it was a secret," she said meekly.

"You lied to us."

Cortina's mantle paled then turned a solid, washed out purple, her face guilt-ridden. Purdie did feel sorry for her, knowing all too well the position she was in, but she also couldn't help but feel a bit betrayed. They couldn't have all been lies. Cortina was clever enough something in a way that wouldn't result in her having to outright lie, but even so, it had still been a deception. Couldn't she trust them?

"Please don't be mad at her," Callie said, rubbing Cortina's mantle affectionately. "We were the ones who wanted her to keep the secret. It was for her benefit, too."

"She could have told us, at least," Dekin said sourly.

"I promised not to tell anyone," Cortina said softly.

"You still could have-."

"I promised." Cortina's voice flared back into strength, her posture straight and tall, the shame displayed in her mantle evaporating, replaced with a more reddish-green than her natural colour. There was no give in her voice. She was firm on this.

"In retrospect," Marie said, "we probably should have let her tell you, at least. A product of our own inexperience, I suppose."

Dekin's face darkened, his eyes never having left their daughter. "And that job at the concert a couple months ago? Was that actually just you hanging out backstage or something?"

"No, she was actually working," Callie answered cheerfully. "She did a good job too."

Purdie felt an odd sense of relief. At least not everything had been a deception. They had been so proud of Cortina for that little accomplishment too. It was good to be able to keep that.

Cortina looked upset, probably feeling guilty for all the deception, but also hurt. Callie wrapped one of her long black tentacles around her and pulled her close in a comforting gesture that seemed to relax her.

The gesture wouldn't have seemed like a big deal to most inklings, but for someone as closed as Cortina, it spoke volumes for the amount of familiarity and intimacy between them. Just how close was she to these girls after two years?

"I'd like to know how you even met," Purdie said. "I can't imagine you sharing the same social circles."

"We didn't anticipate meeting her, either," Marie smiled. "Basically, our grandfather got tied up with something and Cortina was helping him out. We met through him. We see him often."

"And we took to her immediately," Callie said, smiling broadly as she pulled Cortina into a tight hug. "So shy but so cute and earnest. Didn't say much back then but her actions spoke for her pretty well. You've raised a real sweetheart." She punctuated by giving Cortina a kiss on the cheek. Purdie, surprised, expected Cortina's face to practically glow blue, but she was even more surprised when her cheeks only slightly coloured, as if she was used to it. In fact, Purdie suspected that if she and Dekin weren't there, she would have barely reacted at all.

"We've been close ever since," Marie went on. "Having her around goes a long way to keeping us grounded and she's been as loyal a friend as we could possibly ask for."

"So you can see now why we'd want her around as our bodyguard."

"Not the bodyguard part," Dekin said. "Cortina would normally hide behind us instead of confronting anyone. I admit, she's much more confident these days than she was before, and if you played a part in that, I thank you, but there's a big difference between that and being a bodyguard."

Callie laughed. "Yeah, when she realized who we were she panicked and tried to hide behind Gramp's shack."

_Now_ Cortina's flushed brightly, her mantle turning a bright blue. She even hid her burning face behind her hands. Purdie couldn't help but smile though. That was more like the Cortina she knew. It was actually quite relieving.

"She's come a long way," Marie agreed and started to rub Cortina's head. "And I can assure you, she won't be doing any hiding when it comes to her job. She never would have gotten certified otherwise."

Dekin and Purdie both sat up straight.

"What?" Dekin asked incredulously. "There's no way she could have gotten certified at her age!"

"She's really talented," Callie said. "And no, we didn't bribe anyone. Even if it actually would have worked, Cortina would not have appreciated that at all. She earns what she gets."

"And she achieved one of the highest levels," Marie added. "With full marks in close combat, weapons, tactics, and acrobatics, among other things."

Purdie and Dekin both stared at their daughter who wore a display and expression somewhere between pride and embarrassment.

Weapons they could understand somewhat since they knew she was skilled at turf war, but close combat? Short of the rare moments she lost her temper, Cortina never raised a hand to anyone. Of course, when she did, it never ended well for the one on the other end. The months after Fulvia's death were particularly harrowing in that regard.

"I don't believe it," Dekin said firmly. "There's no way she could have gotten that good after just two years."

Cortina pouted and her mantle reddened, offended but not overly so. Dekin did have a point.

"One wouldn't think so, normally," Marie agreed. "But she did. Cortina, why don't you show them your certification?"

Cortina raised an eyebrow at Marie. "You have it. You said you needed it for paperwork."

Marie grimaced and Callie burst out laughing.

"'_Make sure you have everything, Callie; don't let yourself forget anything, Callie; we have to make a good impression Callie_.' Ha! Look who's ended up forgetting something now!"

Marie looked very annoyed, her mantle rippling crimson, while Cortina giggled quietly into her hands. Despite the situation, even Purdie had to admit, seeing Marie flustered was funny.

"Anyway," Marie went on, regaining her composure. "I assure you, her qualifications are genuine and she is more than good enough."

Dekin crossed his arms and glared across the table at Cortina. Cortina met his gaze evenly, still smiling.

Then Dekin stood up suddenly and walked towards the living room. "Come on, Cortina."

Cortina frowned. "Dad?"

"Dekin," Purdie demanded. "What are you doing?"

"I heard that guards have to be willing to prove their capabilities if someone doubts them."

Cortina's eyes narrowed and her mantle turned a solid red. "You're challenging me?" Her voice and eyes were hard as steel.

"Yes," Dekin replied bluntly. "Come on, let's get this done."

"Dekin, you can't," Purdie cried.

"Don't worry," he replied. "I took some self-defense classes. I won't hurt her."

Cortina pushed her chair back and stood. She moved with brisk but confident steps. She was angry, insulted perhaps. This wasn't good. The last thing they wanted to do was antagonize their daughter. That would just create bitterness and there would be no rational arguing, it would be an emotional slugging match.

Callie and Marie, by contrast, appeared completely calm and relaxed.

"Nice tea," Callie commented nonchalantly.

Purdie's mouth fell open, as if to say something, but no words emerged. She looked back at the living room where Dekin and Cortina were now staring at each other.

Dekin was of reasonable height for a male but Cortina was just as big as he was now and her intensity was on another level from his. It reminded Purdie so much of Fulvia: the intense gaze she had right before a race, where she would put it all on the line to maintain her title as queen of the mountain.

"If you can't beat me," Dekin said firmly. "You're not going anywhere."

"That's fine," Cortina said. "But if I win, I'll hear no more arguments about my competence as a bodyguard."

"There's more to bodyguarding than fighting."

"You challenged me. If you lose, you have no right to question my ability, even if you are my dad."

Then there was a flash of movement followed by a soft bang and the next thing Purdie knew, Dekin was on the floor, his arms pinned behind him by Cortina who was on top of him. Dekin just now seemed to be coming to the realization himself.

"What? W-wait a second, I wasn't ready."

"No," their daughter replied flatly. "You weren't."

"Countdowns are only in movies and T.V.," Marie said with a sympathetic smile. "Real guards don't bother. You have to always be ready to protect your charge. Let him go, Cortina."

Cortina obeyed, letting Dekin's arms go and standing up, then helping Dekin to his feet. He still looked stunned. Purdie was too. How on Earth had Cortina moved so quickly? If she had blinked she would have missed it.

"I told you she was talented," Callie said and then gave Cortina a firm and affectionate nuzzle as she sat back between them.

"So it seems," Purdie breathed, rubbing Dekin's shoulder as he sat down again. He still seemed to be coming to terms with what happened. So was she, for that matter.

"I assure you, your daughter isn't in danger from the sort she'll be protecting us from," Marie said. "She can handle overbearing fans and stalkers with her eyes shut. They're no real threat to her."

"And we'll be there to look after her personal health and well-being," Callie said. "We've gotten her to shower more often already." Cortina gave her a sour look and Marie chuckled.

Purdie frowned. That had been something of a concern. Cortina was well behaved and had a good head on her shoulders for a girl her age, but she wasn't independent enough to look after herself completely. She couldn't really cook all that well, she had trouble picking out a proper wardrobe, and she had difficulty making big decisions or having important discussions. The fact that Marie and Callie had been doing virtually all the arguing since they arrived highlighted that pretty clearly.

"Iya." Puride looked up at the sound of Cortina's voice. Her daughter's hard intensity had vanished, replaced by the gentle, meek, little girl she was all too familiar with, and it made her chest ache.

"I know you're nervous about letting me go and I know you don't know Callie and Marie much, but they really are the best I could ever ask for. Next to you and Dad, they're the best family I have. Their money and fame has nothing to do with it. Whenever I needed to cry, scream, or just talk, they were there to listen. When I was at my lowest points, they were there for me. It's not that I didn't want to talk to you about any stuff, it's just… there were some things I just couldn't..." She let those words linger and then continued.

"The reason I really want to take this job, not just because I want to help Callie and Marie out, is because I need to. I… I need to get out, I need to grow up a little, and this is the best way. I love you and Dad more than anything, and I love being able to come home, especially when I feel like I need to get away, but it's…" she pursed her lips. "I think it's too safe. It's too easy to hide. I've become too dependent on you. I need to grow up."

"Becoming a big sister will make you grow up in a hurry," Dekin said gruffly.

Cortina winced. "I know it seems like I'm dodging responsibility, but I- I need to do this. They won't need their big sister for the first couple of years. I want to be one they can actually learn from and I want to become better for myself too, because right now, I'm not happy with the way I am."

Cortina looked at her with glistening eyes. She was pouring her heart out here, even if her argument didn't seem all that convincing. Hardly surprising; she wasn't very good with words. _But maybe that's the point. She's always had us to handle things for her, talk to people and organize things. Look how much she's grown without us. Does she actually have a point? Maybe we have coddled her too much since Fulvia died._

She glanced over at Dekin, and he seemed to be pondering the issue over as well. Still, this was a lot to take in.

"It's not as if she's replacing you with us," Marie stepped in. "Callie and I have been living on our own since we were fourteen and we still talk with our parents all the time and ask for advice. Cortina will be no different."

"She's just trying to spread her wings a little," Callie added. "She wants to know what she can really do, what she's capable of. She wants to make you proud."

Cortina made a shy nod of agreement and the table fell silent again.

Purdie and Dekin looked at each other. She could see the doubt and concern in his eyes. There was still something missing out of this equation, they could both feel it. But at the same time, could they really use that against them? Against Cortina?

_What would you want?_ She asked her late lover silently. She and Fulvia had left their respective homes because they felt constrained and trapped somehow, Cortina seemed to feel overly sheltered and unprepared for the big wide world.

_You wouldn't try to keep her constrained, even if you wanted to. You'd want her to live a free and fulfilled life. You'd sent her off with a hug and a kiss then dare the world to stand in her way._

Purdie sighed heavily, her mantle turning a dark blue. She didn't want to let Cortina go, she wanted to keep their baby safe at home. _Which is why I have to let her go._ She realized.

"Alright," she said softly. "You can go."

Callie and Marie both let out held breaths while Cortina turned bright orange and then reached across the table to squeeze her hands.

"I won't let you down, Iya. I'll make you proud."

Purdie pulsed blue and squeezed back. "You already have, sweetie. Maybe I was just too blind to see how much you really had grown."

She felt Dekin's hand on her arm. "We both were," he said.

"Besides," Purdie smiled. "If anything happened to you, I'm sure these girls would have their own mothers to answer to."

Callie and Marie both paled and Cortina laughed. Purdie and Dekin laughed too.

**Author's Notes:**

This was one of the trickiest chapters to write, although, not nearly as much as Chapter 10. There are a lot of subtleties and it's probably the most time we've spent in Purdie's head.

Callie and Marie have high standards when it comes to bodyguards and it goes without saying that Three meets them all, for the most part.


	16. Mountains or Pebbles

Eight felt oddly calm as she lay in the giant palm as fingers broad as telephone poles wrapped around her, holding her delicately in place.

Enormous scarlet eyes looked down at her, soft, sparkling, and gentle, with just a hint of playfulness in them. Eight couldn't wipe the smile from her face and felt more comforted than aroused when a giant thumb began stroking her abdomen.

"Do you like that?" Three's heavenly voice boomed. Despite the power of her voice, Eight felt like her otoliths were being snuggled into fluffy blankets.

Eight reached out and grasped the thumb, hugging it tightly and nuzzling her cheek against it. "Even your thumb is beautiful," she said. "I wish I had eyes on my hands so I could examine them closely every time I hold it."

"If you want to look at my hands," the giant Three said, "You only need to ask."

Eight looked at her, up into those big beautiful eyes, so close she could now see her reflection in them.

"You wouldn't find it disturbing?"

"Of course not. Should my lover not be given unrestricted access to my beautiful body? It is your privilege." Those eyes gleamed naughtily and the thumb pressed against Eight, moving slightly downwards. "I certainly take advantage of mine."

Eight's face flushed but she felt an odd sense of relief. Perhaps it was from Three finally seeing her as a lover. It was like getting an enormous boost in status.

"But you're so big. It would take me a while to examine you as closely as I desire."

Three grinned and Eight felt herself moving as the other girl lay on her back on the ground. Three lowered her hand and gently deposited Eight on her stomach.

"Well then, I suppose you better get started."

Eight felt as though her chest might burst. There was a surge of hormones as her arousal reached peaks she didn't think existed and she felt a whole new kind of freedom no magazine or internet article had ever told her about: a total lack of inhibition. And so, with hearts soaring and hormones raging, she did as bid and began exploring.

Eight would end up exploring depressingly little of that giant, glorious body before she woke up and the landscape of Three's skin was replaced by light-brown bedsheets, once again soaked through with ink.

Eight whined pitifully and smacked her mattress dejectedly. Yet another mere dream, a delusion of her lonely, pining soul.

Eight tossed her covers off angrily and began the well-practiced process of changing her sheets. Fortunately, the blanket had remained unsoiled this time and she was able to keep that.

Her clock read 05:00, about the time she normally had to wake up, which meant she at least got a decent night's sleep. Still, this changing of bedsheets was starting to become routine.

Ever since their date at Wahoo World, Eight had been experiencing progressively more intimate dreams with Three. It was as if their discussion on the ferris wheel had opened new doors in her mind that took her consciousness to unsavory places she didn't know were there. Plus, her dream Three had been getting bigger every dream and since meeting Jewel, those dreams had been more palpable than ever.

At first, she had blamed her male tentacle for such dreams, but as she dumped her sheets into the laundry hamper and took out a fresh set from the linen closet, she was less certain of that.

_Maybe it's just an indication that I like strong females. Three is certainly that already, so maybe her increasing size in my dreams is just an acknowledgement of that strength?_ Except her dream Three was still much more curvaceous than the real one, which tainted that idea somewhat. Had she always been so impure?

_My fantasies will surely get back under control once Three and I start dating properly. That should be very soon. I just have to endure until then._

Three had only sent once text in the four days since their date: '_Things are progressing now.'_ Eight took that to mean Three had figured out how to free herself from the hangups and obstacles had been inhibiting her. Eight wanted to inquire further but decided to trust Three and leave it.

_I just have to be patient and make sure I'm ready to receive her when she returns. I can't let my dreams set unrealistic expectations._

Eight quickly made her bed and had a quick shower before changing into her maid uniform. Donning it helped her focus and discouraged the presence of unwelcome thoughts.

Eight went to the kitchen to get started making breakfast, but no sooner had she entered the room that she froze.

Pearl sat in her pyjamas on one of the stools at the kitchen island, nursing a steaming cup of tea. Her hunched posture and the way she gently tapped her fingers on the cup indicated she was deep in thought. The single fluorescent light from the stove cast her in shadow.

Eight reached up to the light switch to turn on the overhead lights but hesitated. She didn't want to disturb Pearl, and for her to be so deep in thought, she had to be contemplating something important.

Eight withdrew her hand and approached Pearl, slowly, her stockings muting her footsteps until she reached the stool next to her.

Pearl flinched away, finally detecting her presence, but quickly relaxed.

"It's creepy how you and Marina are so damn quiet," she muttered.

"Habit, I suppose. Are you alright?"

Pearl shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I just woke up early and I was too restless to stay in bed so I made myself some tea."

"I see. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can make me breakfast, I guess. Something with lots of meat."

Eight smiled. "Sausages and pancakes then?"

Pearl arched an eyebrow at her. "Sausages _and _pancakes?"

"Why not?"

The corners of Pearl's mouth twitched upwards slightly. "No reason. Sounds great, actually."

"Then I shall get started."

Eight turned all the lights on, making sure Pearl had ample warning before she did so, and set to work.

Once Pearl's eyes finished adjusting to the now well lit room, she asked her, "have you been sleeping alright lately, Eight?"

Eight jerked, nearly dropping the bowl she was holding. Did Pearl know about her odd dreams? Had she seen the soiled sheets? She turned her head to look over her shoulder, but Pearl's expression appeared totally neutral.

"I suppose," she replied slowly. "I have not had any nightmares lately."

"That's good."

Eight frowned. "Have you been having nightmares?"

Pearl shrugged, her mantle flashing blue. "Just bad dreams; wouldn't really call them nightmares though." She smiled sardonically, "tends to happen after I visit my family."

"Ah."

Pearl's mantle turned scarlet and she glared at her. "Don't act smart just because Mom gave you some sneaky info using her mind-reading mom powers."

"I am not trying to," Eight insisted. "You act as though I am going to use that against you."

Pearl crossed her arms and scowled, staring down at her drink, bringing her voice down to barely above a whisper.

"Mom never had to ask a girl out. I don't know why she thinks she's such an expert. It's not as easy as she thinks it is."

Eight took a package of sausages and milk from the fridge and set them back on the counter. "Is it all that different from a marriage proposal? The principle seems the same."

"Wouldn't make it any easier," Pearl countered, "and it is different. After you get married, you transition into a totally different phase of life, the phase where you raise a family, but when you get bonded, that doesn't happen. You're still in that phase, it's just become a lot more complicated because you have to manage that relationship and do more dating to find someone to marry both of you, and you all have to be able to love each other. There's a good reason epeso families are so few in number."

Eight nodded and began mixing the batter for the pancakes. "I understand, it is a lot to consider. Perhaps once my relationship with Three develops further, I will also begin to worry about that."

Pearl waved her hand dismissively. "That's way in the future, Eight. You've got a long way to go before you get to that stage."

Eight turned and lifted one tentacle towards Pearl. "How long have you and Marina been courting?"

Pearl frowned. "Courting? No, we haven't really been- I mean, we've known each other for almost two years."

"You've been courting since you met?"

"No, I mean… we've never…"

Eight looked at her, a hand on her hip. "You were the one you told me to be assertive when I was trying to get Three to court me. After weeks of floundering and failure just trying to get Three to speak to me, we finally got our first date at Wahoo World, and it was there I realized you had been right, I should have been more assertive." She pointed an angry finger between Pearl's eyes.

"You already have a wonderful relationship with Marina. You cuddle on the couch, you can argue and tease each other without fear of harming your relationship, you even sleep together sometimes. That is much further ahead than Three and I are, and yet, you are afraid to even ask Marina to go on a date with you? Do you even realize what you are saying? You know Marina far better than I know Three."

Pearl grimaced and looked away. "But it's different between us. You and Marina have these weird secrets I don't know about. How can I say I really know Marina if I don't know about any of that. I know she doesn't like to talk about it, but it obviously affects her a lot. I just feel like she's shutting me out a little."

She finally met Eight's gaze, and Eight thought she saw a bit of hurt in those golden eyes.

"You never had that problem with Three. She speaks your language, and for whatever reason, she knows whatever secrets you and Marina have been keeping from me."

Eight paused, brow furring. Something about this felt eerily familiar. That was when she realized she had been in Pearl's position with Three. It seemed hard to believe. Despite all their closeness, despite how well they understood each other, they were dealing with the same type of obstacle she and Three had just gotten past. It seemed a tragic irony.

Eight sat on the stool next to Pearl and took a deep, calming, breath. "I am sorry you feel left out of all that, Pearl. Please understand that I do not try to hide any of my past from you, but I cannot simply reveal everything I know. It is quite a large topic. As for what I cannot tell, I am afraid that not all of those secrets are mine to tell. I know what Marina did, Three knows, and I know you at least know she was a weapons development engineer."

"Yeah, I know all that. Cap'n told me. I don't know what secret Marina could have that's bigger than that."

Eight nodded. "I don't know if she knows how much you already know, but I do know she was part of a great many secret projects. I do not know the details but I am certain that she feels a lot of guilt about them, even shame. Maybe she even feels like a… a monster."

Pearl's mouth opened, frowning deeply. "You've got to be kidding me. Marina's like the super sweetest girl I know. She's an even bigger puffball than you are. She even told me she couldn't hold a candle to your combat skills."

"Skills aren't what make you a monster," Eight said sadly, remembering Three's heartfelt rant as it flashed in front of her eyes and echoed in her ears. "It's what you do with those skills. Even if it doesn't seem rational, sometimes you cannot help but feel guilt over what you've done, especially if it affected or could have affected someone you love."

Pearl's mouth slowly closed and her expression softened. Her eyes moved from side to side, as if looking for something just in front of her.

"So how do you stop feeling guilty about it?" Pearl asked softly.

"By talking to someone about it." Eight gently took Pearl's hand and gave it a small squeeze. "You need to tell her that it's not her fault, that she has nothing to be sorry about, but most of all, you have to get her to release those feelings she's keeping inside her."

"I've tried that," Pearl said sourly. "She always got mad at me and brushed me off, saying she didn't want to talk about it."

Eight sighed. "And you don't want to push because you're afraid they'll leave you. You're afraid of breaking what you already have."

Pearl stared into her eyes, gold searching through amber, and then those eyes widened slightly.

"You went through this with Three?"

"Yes. Three considered herself a monster and was afraid she might hurt me somehow. There was much more than that but that is all I can say. Please trust that I was in the same position as you."

"And how did you get her to talk?"

Eight smiled and shrugged. "I got mad and yelled at her."

Pearl let out a snort of laughter. "You got mad? I've seen you annoyed and irritated, like just a couple minutes ago, but not really so mad you'd yell."

Eight blushed. "I suppose I was feeling passionate. That's when I realized you were right about assertiveness."

Pearl sighed. "I've tried yelling, Eight. It doesn't work with Marina. Trust me."

"Then do not yell. When we were with your family, I do not recall your mother needing to yell once to be assertive."

"Mountains go swimming when she yells," Pearl said with a fearful shudder. "Still, you might have a point there. I'm not sure how I'll do it, but I can't just leave things as they are."

"Because you love her?" Eight whispered.

Pearl's mantle turned solid pink and she glanced away. "Yeah… I guess that's the reason."

Eight smiled broadly and gave Pearl a hug. "I'm sure it'll work out."

"Yeah yeah." Pearl gently pushed her away. "But it's going to have to wait until after splatfest. Now's not the time for us to be dealing with internal drama."

"Yes, Three said she had things to deal with too, before we tried again in earnest." She hummed. "I suppose now I better understand what that might mean."

Pearl shrugged. "Well, life can make things difficult. Sometimes you have to leave things until you have a clear head."

Eight stood up and got back to making breakfast just as Marina came into the room.

"Morning," she said drowsily.

"Mornin," Pearl said casually. "I made the tea this morning."

"You got up so early?"

"I slept well last night."

Marina raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? Normally you're pretty restless at night after we visit your parents."

Pearl simply shrugged and poured Marina a cup as she sat beside her. Marina accepted it gratefully.

As Eight mixed the pancake batter, she couldn't help but imagine herself and Three in Pearl and Marina positions. Now that they were over the very obstacle standing between the older girls, perhaps she should start looking at how Marina and Pearl behaved towards each other as a way of determining how she should behave with Three as a girlfriend.

_Sleeping together is too much but surely cuddling on the couch should be acceptable._ She would think on that later. She would think on it a great deal.

Marie stared intensely at the large map on the wall that outlined known Octarian territory in Octo Valley. Nearly a hundred notations were pinned to it, each one indicating noteworthy features or activities. More than once, she had tried to get Captain Cuttlefish to upgrade to a modern system, yet, she found the tactile, analog setup working well. Her eyes had something real to latch onto and analyze, and although the notations cluttered the map, it put all the information up front. And somehow, her brain always seemed to work faster and better when it was looking at something tangible and real.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Ma'am," came Agent 4's voice from behind her. "They're definitely stockpiling more and I overheard talk of new units being added to the frontline garrisons. I don't know if they're brand new or just moved from other parts of the valley."

Marie rested a hand on her hip, grimacing slightly from the fact that said hand had more to rest on than it used to. Second puberty was hitting both her and Callie like a train.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. What does matter is that we're going to have a lot more octarians to deal with pretty soon, too many for a potential jail break."

She turned around and stared at Four who sat seiza-style on the floor, looking up at her, mantle full of excited colours.

"So, we're gonna' have to move sooner?"

Marie's shoulders slumped a bit. "Unfortunately. I wish we had more time to plan our escape back to Inkopolis and get Three moved in first, but it's just not going to happen."

Four's mantle began pulsing orange, showing her eagerness. "I'm totally ready to get in there and do whatever! I've done tougher missions before."

Marie pulled out her phone and frowned as she examined her schedule over the next week.

Callie and I only have one day we're both clear for the next three weeks, which is just a couple of days from now."

Four pulsed blue. "Don't worry. Three and I can totally-."

"You're not doing it alone," Marie said firmly. "This is going to take all of us to pull off without involving Gramps." She grimaced. "That probably includes Eight."

Four winced. "You want to bring Eight in too?"

"Not in a combat role, more to receive the prisoners and get them through Inkopolis to a safe house." She hummed. "It might be worth asking Marina if Work Detail can help with this somehow."

Four relaxed, a wave of relieved blue washing through her mantle. "Okay, so what do I do?"

"Get some rest and be here at…" she checked her phone, "Sixteen-hundred tomorrow. We'll plan and get ready then. We have to be able to move as soon as we possibly can."

Four puffed her cheeks, her mantle turning sour blue in disappointment.

Marie sighed inwardly but she couldn't help but smile at Four's eagerness and desire to be useful. "Alright, if you really want to do something, go do another perimeter check in case there are extra snoops around. We'll need to double our caution 'till the op's over."

Four brightened and hurried out of the cabin like an excited child.

Marie stared back at the map and crossed her arms. She didn't know what was going on but she knew it wasn't good, not for their objective, not for them, not for Inkopolis.

"Well, we're not letting them get through this time. Third time won't be their charm."

**Author's Notes:**

Here we go, folks, this is the first chapter of the story's final arc. Danger looms on the horizon and Pearl is contemplating a more serious relationship with Marina much more strongly than before, with Eight's blessing and encouragement. Pearl clearly has a lot on her mind after talking with her family and knowing that Eight knows about her desire to eventually form a more permanent and intimate relationship with Marina. Will there perhaps be double-dates in the future? Who knows. I'm sure Freud would have a lot to say about Eight's dreams but I'll just let everyone come up with their own theories about what Eight's fantasies might mean, heh heh.


	17. Rescue Operations

For the first time since she had felt it, the chill autumn wind was actually a blessing to Eight, keeping her cool as she ran from the condo towards Inkopolis Square.

It was the first time in months, perhaps even a year, that Eight had needed to run like this. Despite that, muscle memory kept each step measured and her pace uniform. Years of running in formation with dozens of her peers every morning came back to her as she made quick work of one block after another. She could still hear her old training officer barking out the cadence, as if she was only feet away, with the training sergeants smacking anyone who got out of step or who lacked proper form, with a bamboo stick.

Another time, Eight would have thought about how her younger self would have been shocked and appalled had she known her future self would look back on those days with nostalgic fondness. She would have wondered how her old training officers and sergeants were fairing, if they were still alive. This time, Eight had more pressing things on her mind.

Yesterday, she had received a text message from Four, telling her she was needed at Cuttlefish Cabin at 16:00 today, and it was urgent. Unfortunately, that time cut it rather close to the end of her maid training lessons, as well as some important tasks Marina had left for her to do regarding Work Detail due by then. By the time she had all that taken care of, it was nearly time, and that left her a matter of only minutes to get to Cuttlefish Cabin from the penthouse.

This was the first time Eight had received any kind of formal summoning as a member of the NSS. She sometimes forgot she was an official member as she never participated on missions, for obvious reasons, so she assumed it had to be very important.

Inkopolis Square was bustling, despite the chill in the air. The crowds were so thick that Eight was forced to slow down lest she bump into anyone. It was considered poor manners to run in the square anyway.

Eight grimaced as she saw the clock at the bottom-right of the main screen hit 16:00. She was running late, and she still had a ways to go yet.

She moved to the isolated corner of the square where the familiar sewer grate waited, checked for anyone watching, then dove inside.

Travelling through the sewers took only moments but they felt like hours as she knew the seconds past her expected time of arrival ticked past. She hadn't even sent Four a text saying she might be late.

In her army days that would have resulted in a severe reprimand. Tardiness was not tolerated. She knew the NSS wouldn't actually punish her, but she did expect a firm scolding.

She burst through the grate on the other side, changed back to her octoling form and took in a deep breath, collapsing to her knees, panting.

She hadn't pushed herself like this since the metro. She was now realizing she was a bit out of shape, or perhaps it had to do with her increased weight since then.

"Eight!, You okay?"

A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see Four's concerned expression, mantle dark-yellow and rippling.

Eight needed to catch her breath before she replied. This made her aware of yet another practical use of tuk-yan: it wasn't inhibited by shortness of breath.

"I'm fine," Eight eventually managed.

"Geez, did you run the whole way here?" Four helped her to her feet, supporting her weight as they made their way towards Cuttlefish Cabin.

Three was already there, wearing her uniform. She looked at Eight with worry but Eight managed to give her a reassuring smile, touched by her concern.

Callie and Marie were on the cabin's small porch area, garbed in business-like attire, probably from whatever they were doing prior to this meeting or what they would be doing soon after. They both looked very serious - Callie uncharacteristically so. That put Eight on edge.

Four helped her sit down, even though Eight had more or less recovered her breath, with herself sitting between Eight and Three.

"Well," Marie began. "Now that we're all here, we can begin. We'll skip the pleasantries; however, I need to state that operation is to be conducted without Captain Cuttlefish's knowledge. If anyone has a problem with that, speak up now.

Eight froze. For the commanding officer to be kept unadvised about even a potential operation was a huge breach in military protocol. A rogue operation was a fast way of finding oneself a demotion and relegated to unpleasant duties, even reassignment to a penal splatoon. What kind of operation could they possibly want to conduct they didn't want Captain Cuttlefish knowing about?

Despite her reservations, Eight raised no objections. Nobody else did either. Three's expression could have been carved from stone and Four looked wide-eyed and eager.

"Alright," Marie said. "We're all agreed, which means we all accept the consequences when we get caught.

Eight heard Four "ulp," and her eager expression was replaced with a worried grimace. Eight couldn't help but feel amused at her friend's sudden apprehension.

Marie continued. "For Eight's benefit, I'll just state we are acting on our plan to free the Octoling Prisoners in the Polip Prison facility. Most of them are ones Callie knows personally from her captivity. Octarian command is content to let them rot but we're not going to allow it. I know this is a bit unusual but you'll all just have to trust us that this is important."

"Especially to me," Callie cut in. "I know those octolings we'll be freeing could really benefit the octolings already in Inkopolis, giving them some of the guidance, leadership and direction that Marina just doesn't have the time or status for." She gave Eight an apologetic smile and Eight smiled back, understanding.

Marina was remarkable and quite well respected, but she was still young and just didn't have the time to devote to establishing a new Octarian culture-in-exile. She was more useful as a positive public image of their people.

"But more than just that," Callie said. "I'll consider this a personal favour from me. These girls looked after me while I was in captivity. They treated me well and became real friends by the end. In a way, I'm also the reason they're in that prison, so I feel it's my responsibility to get them out. This whole operation was my idea, and it was my idea not to tell Gramps about it. So, if things go wrong, you can blame me for whatever happens, okay?"

_She probably intended to finish that speech with a smile, _Eight thought, but she didn't. If anything, Callie looked closer to crying. Eight wondered if she'd had nightmares about this operation. She remembered Four telling her Callie still suffered nightmares about her captivity.

"Moving on," Marie said. "This mission is high risk but we're going to do everything we can to minimize the risks. Even so, it's going to take most of us because this isn't a regular mission. We're used to recon and raiding, not rescue and infiltration, so we're going to have to be extra careful. The rescuees won't be in the best condition either, most likely tired, malnourished, not in fighting trim. They'll have to be protected, and they won't be fast."

Four made an ugly noise in her throat and whispered, "I hate escort missions in games. This is gonna' be even worse."

Eight had also hated escort missions as a soldier, whether it be a VIP, machine components, or something else, it was probably one of the worst kinds of missions to be on.

As an escort, you had to stay close to your charge, in the open, easily visible, slow, and vulnerable. In contrast, the raiders could pick when and where they wanted to strike, staying unseen until the moment of attack. If they knew the route they were taking, the raiders could set up an ambush, letting an escort group march into a prepared killzone.

It was Callie who spoke up next. "Agent 2 and I will be doing close escort of the prisoners. Agent 3 and 4, we'll be keeping you loose, moving ahead and to the sides to make sure the way is clear."

"Awesome," Eight heard Four whisper.

"And now," Marie said, looking at her phone. "We'll go over the sequence of the plan.

"First, Callie and I will get here early and head out before the captain knows we're here. We'll make sure he can't monitor the area so that'll buy us some time."

Three stood up straighter and crossed her arms. "You are the ones who have been messing with the surveillance systems."

"It's called preparing for the future, Agent 3." She cleared her throat and banished her smug grin before continuing.

"Agent 3 and 4, you will arrive when expected for your joint recon mission at 08:00. By then, Agent 1 and I should have everything ready. You'll get close and likely lose contact with Captain Cuttlefish. We need you to meet up with us by 09:30 at the latest.

"Speed is more important than stealth," Callie said. "So we'll be rushing to the dome and blasting anything in our way. Once we make it down, it'll be pretty much the same. I have a contact that should get us in without trouble.

"From there, Agent 3 and 4, you will take care of the outer sections of the prison complex itself. Clear the walls, guard towers, and quarters. Make sure they can't shut the gates on us too. Agent 2 and I will be clearing out the cellblock and doing the actual rescuing."

Three raised a hand. "Wouldn't it be better for Agent 2 to be outside if she's using a charger? Agent 4's specialty with splatlings would probably make her more ideal for inside work."

Callie opened her mouth to respond but Marie cut her off.

"There's no reason Agent 4 can't use a charger instead. It may not be her specialty but she is more than proficient enough."

Four frowned. The charger was her least favourite weapon. She preferred to get close and move swiftly than stay in one place. Then again, perhaps that was the point. Perhaps Marie was trying to keep Four out of trouble.

Callie cleared her throat, once again taking charge of the briefing. "Once the outside of the prison has been cleared of guards and we have all the prisoners out of their cells, all four of us will escort them to some ruins about halfway between the prison and the exit. There we'll let the prisoners catch their breath and we'll give them some ration bars to give them a little strength for the journey ahead."

Marie spoke up and Eight stiffened when she looked directly into her eyes. "This is about the time where you come in, Agent 8."

Eight gave a slow nod. She wondered why she hadn't been mentioned in the plan yet.

"Shortly after we've begun our attack, we expect you to show up at Cuttlefish Cabin, between 10:00 and 10:30. The captain should be back by then and he'll probably send you to back us up somehow, or something, but mostly, we want you there to guard the cabin and the entrance to Inkopolis."

Eight frowned. "But, why have me arrive so late?"

"Because we don't want you sent to help us," she replied bluntly. "We trust you and you'd be an asset, but we don't want to put you in a position where you'd have to shoot your own people. We don't want you to be seen as a traitor."

'_And so we don't accidentally shoot you.' _Eight frowned. "I understand what you mean but I am already considered a traitor, a deserter."

"We're hoping that, in the future, it'll be possible for octolings to travel between Inkopolis and the domes peacefully. We're just trying to keep your options open. Besides, I doubt many of the octolings already here would be happy about you shooting at your own kind either."

Eight winced. She couldn't dispute that. Honestly, she didn't want to shoot anyone either. Killing the sanitized octolings in the metro had been bad enough, and they had been little more than brainwashed husks.

"I suppose," she conceded.

"You're there in case we need you," Callie said, her tone far gentler than Marie's. "We're trying to free some Octolings - good ones, and we need your help for that. I'm sure they would respond better if there was one of their own kind here to help them. It would put them at ease. To be honest, if they had seen you fighting alongside us, they might doubt your… impartiality."

So that was the other reason. It made sense but Eight still felt like she was being given special treatment. Still, at least they were involving her at all and protecting the way to Inkopolis and Cuttlefish Cabin while the other agents were away was an important duty.

She glanced sideways towards Three, who continued to stare towards Callie and Marie. Eight hadn't forgotten her worries about accidentally shooting her, an octoling, in the heat of battle, nor had she forgotten that incident where Three had used physical combat against that octoling girl during a tower control match.

_I still have to deal with that girl. She'd better show up for the meeting._

"I understand."

"Good," Marie said. "Now, from there, I imagine you'll be dealing with the Captain's anger and frustration after he figures out what we're up to. Try and placate him as best you can and help keep a lookout for trouble. Agent 1 and I will deal with him when we get back."

Eight grimaced. "He'll know I knew about this."

Marie grinned. "Well, then be glad you're only a part-timer.

"Now, getting back to the rescue part, by that time, the local garrisons will probably know that something is going on. We'll need to make sure the elevator is secure so we'll need to…"

And the briefing went on from there. Most of the details being the route they would take back to Cuttlefish Cabin to make it in one piece as well as some of the basic tactics they would be using.

Eight listened, offering her opinion on how the garrisons might react and the tactics they might employ, but overall, she stayed silent for the briefing's remainder. Callie and Marie then ended the briefing by ordering Three and Four off on a final recon mission and telling Eight to ask Marina about using Work Detail to help get the newcomers hidden away for a bit and helped with getting accustomed to Inkopolis life.

After Callie and Marie left for another appointment, Eight stood and anxiously made her way over to Three who was getting her gear ready. The other girl paused and looked up as she approached before averting her gaze slightly.

This was the first time they had seen each other since Wahoo World, and other than a handful of text messages, they hadn't spoken to each other either. It was a bit awkward.

Three glanced in Four's direction- the junior agent's focus was on her phone- then stoically walked up to Eight.

"Are you sure about this?" Eight whispered to her. "The things you told me about before…"

Three flashed green. "As long as you're here and not there, I won't have to worry about accidentally hurting you, so I'll be able to focus on my job."

Eight made an unhappy noise and looked down at her feet. "I still wish I was going with you. This is an important and dangerous mission. I want to be by your side, especially after how your last rescue mission went."

"This time it's different," Three insisted. "We're being careful and that's why we're having you stay here, so you can be backup."

"But it's so far away, I might not be able to reach you in time."

"It'll be fine. I'll have One, Two, and Four with me." She cracked a rare smile. "Besides, this is easy compared to the metro, right?"

Eight couldn't help but smile a little herself at that. "I suppose. I'll still be mad if you get hurt though."

Three flashed grey. "You being mad at me worked well for both of us last time."

Eight giggled. "I suppose it did."

Three leaned a little bit closer, her voice softer. "I actually like that side of you, you know. I feel better knowing you're willing to stand up for yourself, even against me. I'd feel like a bully otherwise."

Eight blushed. "I look forward to learning more about your softer side too."

Now it was Three that blushed, and she turned her head away. "Don't rush me."

Eight giggled again and gave Three a gentle hug. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Alive," Three assured, hugging her back. "I promise."

There was a cough and both girls turned to see Four, all geared up and looking impossibly smug.

"I don't wanna' interrupt, but can we go now?"

Three grumbled something and her mantle flashed through a myriad of colours and patterns faster than Eight could see. Four flashed grey with bright yellow spots in reply, her grin unrelenting as she headed off towards the domes with Three.

Eight giggled to herself and turned to head back to the domes. As she was about to transform and go through the grate, she wondered, _where is Captain Cuttlefish now?_

Cast in the gentle magenta glow of her command centre, Septain Avrika Betanuss watched the monitor in front of her. Electric fans hummed in the background, keeping the barely operable computers from getting quite hot enough to melt their own components, and circulating the musty air and clouds of dust that had probably been there since before she hatched. Violet eyes stared at the screen with a mix of inquisitiveness and incredulity as the century old inkling hobbled away from the hidden camera.

It seemed almost an insult that such a decrepit old squid was the mastermind behind the Octarian's every military failure over the past fifty years. Even if the Green Demon was the bane of every Octarian soldier's existence, a being spoken in hushed tones of scorn and reverence, it wouldn't have mattered if not for the machinations of that doddering old inkling. The thought caused her to bring her hand up to stroke the small metal pendant that hung from her neck.

"There he goes," a voice mumbled beside her.

Novem Altern Latria stood less than a foot length away. In the tight confines of the command centre, one couldn't be averse to cramped conditions. The younger officer's tentacles curled and twisted slowly as the gears of her mind turned endlessly behind her bright yellow eyes.

"Indeed. Any better idea what he was looking for?"

Latria shrugged her tentacles. "It could have been anything, but the pattern does seem to fit that of the Inkling's activities over the past few weeks." She gestured to a map crudely drawn on a piece of parchment made from fish skin. "They've regularly been seen along the corridor leading to the old domes."

"And there have been no reports of them being sighted within some of the older domes?"

"None," Latria sighed. "Most of those old domes were abandoned and stripped to supply and repair other domes. Even if there are sentries in the area, they're the dregs. Lax and lazy."

"And we've nothing of value in those areas at all? No resource stores, training areas, research stations, nothing?"

"Nothing that isn't classified, Ma'am," Latria replied calmly.

That calm was more than Avrika could have managed in her position. Unlike her, Latria had been stationed in this sector for almost a year, whereas she had only been there mere weeks. As a result, she found herself constantly asking simple questions one would expect the commander of a sector to know. Latria was young for her rank, but that seemed par for the course for frontline officers these days. It didn't help that Avrika was over two years out of practice when it came to the army.

"And no activity worth noting in the past few months?"

Latria shrugged again. "I suppose there were some males who visited some of the abandoned domes to see if one of them could be used for crop production. That's all I can think of. Maybe they're trying to collapse the domes so we can't use them."

Avrika hummed. "I suppose one never can really tell, but they're planning something, a big operation. We only suspected it before but I think we can be sure now."

Latria silently nodded her agreement and then looked back at the screen. "He'll be out of the valley soon. Slow as he is, he does seem to be in a hurry."

Avrika only glanced at the screen to confirm that for herself before peering back down at the map. "I believe that means they'll be acting soon. And, since high command seems to be as rudderless as ever without our Lord of War, then it falls to us to decide what to do about it."

"Yes Ma'am," Latria said softly. "They'll have a minimum of four agents if it's a full assault."

Avrika kept her expression carefully neutral. How depressing was it that a mere four inklings constituted a major operation for the enemy and was still considered a threat? It was enough to make one whimper.

"Could we stop them?" She looked Latria in the eye and the younger officer looked away shamefully. "I thought not."

Avrika turned around and gazed down at the large sector map on the table. It was decades old, yellow and curled at the edges, but its large size was useful in planning the disposition of her forces. Different coloured pieces of stone and concrete were used to indicate the positions of her troops.

They were spread out, part of standing orders from command to maintain surveillance over her sector despite the risk of the Inklings picking apart her forces piece by piece. Not that having them all together would stop them either.

"Not a good situation," she heard Latria mumble beside her.

"No," Avrika agreed. "But, The Wisdoms tell us that we should always endeavour to make the best of a bad situation."

"Perhaps," Latria said. "But so far, all that's happened in almost four months is troops being moved from the inner domes out here. Nice as it is to have the backup, if the inklings get past us it'll just be easier for them to sneak into the inner domes." She sighed. "Maybe if we had those reinforcements now we could actually fight them."

"Indeed." And that was when the kernel of an idea popped in Avrika's brain. "Assuming we need to fight them at all."

Latria frowned and Avrika lifted a finger to explain. "We know we can't stop them; we'd just lose troops for no real gain. If we keep our troops scattered as they are, they'll be picked off. So, what if we concentrated and attacked instead of defending?"

Latria stared at her, eyes wide but those ever turning gears spun behind them.

"But the standing orders-."

"Can be superseded by the commander in charge to respond to an immediately developing situation. Yes, I've checked." She grinned at Latria's surprised expression and then looked back down at the map, bringing her finger down gently to touch a spot that indicated the route leading to Inkopolis.

"The inklings almost always use this route. If we position our troops correctly, we can keep them out of sight. After we see them pass and go into the domes, our hidden troops can strike out and attack their headquarters." She tapped the map then stood up straight with a predator's grin. "If all of the agents are indeed conducting an assault, there will be little, if anything, standing between us and their headquarters."

Latria's eyes focused intensely on the map, finger to her mouth as her tentacles curled sharply.

"It could work; it's been done before, but that could mean the inklings now expect and plan for it."

"Perhaps, but if we do nothing we're doomed either way. At least like this, there's a chance we can get there, break out Octavio (assuming he's still there), wreck their headquarters, and retreat before the other agents return. How long do you think that might take."

Latria bit her lip, her eyes not leaving the map. The full route to Inkopolis wasn't on it but she had served in this sector for years before she reached her current rank. She knew the area and its operations well.

"Assuming we don't try to capture data and assuming we can retrieve Octavio quickly… an hour, depending on where we hide our troops and where we retreat to."

"We'll have to work it out, Avrika said. "Order all Splatoon commanders to convene here ASAP, but keep all of our troops in place; I don't want to spook the inklings." She grinned. "We've got a rescue operation to plan."

**Author's Notes:**

And now we introduce the other side of the conflict. I actually liked writing the octarian side of this arc and I hope you enjoy Avrika's perspective as much as I do.

Just for clarification: Avrika's rank of Septain is the equivalent to the rank of a Captain in a modern army and she's one rank below Captain Cuttlefish, who is (or was) a Senior Captain in the Inkling army during the war, the equivalent of a modern army Major. Latria's rank of Novem Altern is one rank below Avrika, equivalent to a full lieutenant in a modern army. I wasn't sure how to organically exposit this information in the story itself so I'm putting it here.

Avrika's surname Betanuss literally means "bloodflow" in the Octarian language, but it can also be translated to "river." In ancient times, Octarians considered water to be the blood of the Earth and so rivers were viewed as its literal veins and arteries.


	18. Plans Die

Three once thought she knew what silence was, but her first time through Octo Valley had taught her just how little she knew.

She had been a city girl her entire life, raised in the constant hustle and bustle of a sprawling metropolis with its concrete canyons and the constant din of traffic. Even in Sunset Fields, where she lived, the sounds of the city persisted. If it wasn't occasional traffic through the quiet suburb then it was the wind off the bay rustling through the trees or a plane overhead. Even within her house it wasn't truly quiet; always some noise or another, even in the dead of night: the creaking and groaning of the house settling, the tick of a clock, the gentle rushing of the ventilation system. Only since Three came to Octo Valley had she known true quiet.

The first time, she had been too unsettled and nervous already to notice; although, it had contributed to that feeling. Over time, however, she began to realize just how eerily quiet it could be, like now.

Despite being outside, there was no wind, no leaves to rustle, and no birds to chirp. The first time, nearly two years ago, when she had noticed how quiet it could be, it had unnerved her. She was used to the feeling now but it still kept her on edge.

She glanced to her left where Four walked, her mantle changed to a muted grey colour. Three's natural green helped her blend in to the moss and occasional tufts of grass that grew on the stone and concrete they traversed, but she mixed that with some grey of her own, helping to break up her mantle's profile.

_Not that it actually matters._

Both of them were wearing high visibility gear, Three a vest over her black jacket and Four a full hi-vis jacket. Even so, the habits drilled into her by her teachers during her stealth and infiltration training sessions could not be ignored and she would not. Under the pretence of helping Four get a head start on such training, she had her trying to do the same. For now, maintaining a simple grey would be enough.

Four lifted a finger and pointed to a nearby landmark: a partially collapsed concrete hut. Just beyond this point was where they would be meeting Agent 1 and 2, which meant-.

"Agent 3, Agent 4, come in!" Captain Cuttlefish's anxious voice nearly startled them. "Your signal is getting weak. I think there might be some interference in your area. Damn octos and their jamming equipment."

_Or Marie and her clever sabotage._ Three thought. She shared a knowing grin with Four.

"I won't be able to track you reliably any further out than you already are. You might be on your own for the rest of your mission. Good luck, be careful, and try to find the source of that interference if you can, all in that order. Cuttlefish out."

Four sighed. "How come he never waits for a reply?"

"Because I don't talk," Three told her. "'Course, he never waited for me either."

Four chuckled and adjusted her hold on the charger. It seemed strange to see her carrying a weapon other than her trusty dualies on a mission, but the girl had uttered few complaints. Three had no doubt she would do well with it, even without Marie's divine levels of accuracy.

Three and Four kept moving, their heads on swivels as they searched for any signs of trouble. After a few more minutes, a new voice crackled over the radio.

"Agent 3, Agent 4, we're about 100m away from you, by the broken pipes. Step it up, we have a schedule to keep."

Three did as ordered, picking up her pace and making a beeline for the pile of broken concrete pipes piled in the distance.

"Marie's pretty impatient today," Four commented.

"It's a mission with a timetable," Three reminded her. "That usually makes everyone a little impatient. Plus, she's probably going to be the one who has to explain to Captain Cuttlefish exactly what we were up to behind his back."

Four grimaced, the muddy-blue colour in her mantle clearly indicating she didn't want any part of that discussion.

Callie and Marie popped out from the top of the pile of disused concrete pipes. Each one was big enough to stand up in, browned and moss covered with age and weathering, there was something forlorn about them. Had they not all been cracked or broken in some way, she was certain the ever resourceful Octarians would have found some use for them.

Callie was wearing her typical pink beanie and jacket - which was fastened closed this time, and black shorts. The whole ensemble seemed tighter on her than Three remembered, but that seemed normal these days for either squid sister. Even Marie's outfit seemed to have shrunk on her, but whereas Callie had eschewed the sunglasses, Marie kept the surgical mask over her mouth.

"Any trouble?" Marie asked.

"Captain thinks there's interference here," Three replied, looking knowingly at the older girl. Marie's eyes twinkled and then she looked over at Callie.

"You ready?"

"All set. Let's go."

"Septain! We've spotted them!"

Avrika stiffened and then crossed the command room to join Latria as she moved to the map table and pointed to a spot on the far edge, opposite from the route to Inkopolis.

"Our scouts reported seeing four inklings meeting up here, currently moving further North. The old one wasn't with them."

Avrika's hand came back up to her pendant, gently squeezing it between her thumb and index finger as she reviewed the information and raw excitement started to fill her.

"No idea as to their destination?"

"Not specifically. There are only disused or lightly used domes in that direction. I know there's at least one facility there but it's nature is classified. I suggest sending a letter to the sector commander anyway. Octotroopers aren't smart enough to learn secrets anyway, so I doubt it will be a problem."

Avrika scowled. Three years ago, she had seen the octotroopers and their ilk as comrades against the inkling menace; not bright or particularly pleasant, but useful and brave in their own way. Now, she hated their mere existence. Made from the genetic material of failed eggs, they were a perversion; disgusting, wretched abominations whose only saving grace in her eyes was that they could take the place of octolings on the front lines, meaning fewer real octarians had to die.

"Very good," Avrika replied, careful to maintain an even tone. "Roughly how long will it take them to reach the nearest dome."

"Depends if they use the kettles or one of the elevators, I suppose. If we assume the fastest way then about… fifteen-minutes."

Avrika let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Very good. Then I'll head out now."

Latria's face paled, her eyes and mouth wide with shock. It was the most expression she had ever seen on the younger officer's face. In other circumstances, she might have even laughed.

"You can't!"

"I have to," Avrika replied, keeping her tone even but firm. "With so many octolings present, a senior officer must be there to lead."

"Then I should go. I'm junior to you; you're much too valuable."

Avrika allowed herself to smile and gently placed a hand on Latria's head. "You're still young. You still have something to live for. I've already had that something-those somethings." She placed her other hand over her pendant. "Which means I have something to die for. That's why I have to be the one that goes."

The horrified expression on Latria's face nearly broke her hearts. It was all too much like the expressions she had seen on a pair of faces she so deeply missed.

"You can't," Latria said again, but her voice was weak and cracked.

Avrika gave her a small smile and withdrew her hand. "Novem Altern Latria Steelarm, I officially leave the forward sector command in your very capable grasp."

Latria lips quivered but she came to rigid attention. "Ma'am, I have command."

"Very good. Heaven willing, I will return to take it back. _Tenz ivot_, Latria."

"Long life to you as well, Septian."

With that, Avrika spun on her heels and headed out of the command centre. Behind her, Latria bowed deeply and said, "May the gods bless you, keep you safe, and return you home, honored mother."

"Well that's not good."

Callie's comment echoed the thoughts of the other three agents as they all peered over the lip of a small crater at the prison facility beyond. Where previously there had been sparse and lax security, all the standing guard towers were manned by at least one octoling and an octosniper each. Octotroopers drove up and down the length of the battlements on their little gun platforms, and there was even one of the dreaded flooders patrolling the front gate.

"We need a new plan," Marie murmured. "And we'll need to take out that flooder before we can get out with the prisoners."

Three wished she had asked Marina what the flooder's weaknesses were. She had avoided them plenty of times but taking one out was a different story. All she knew was that a tentacle controlled the machine, essentially acting as its living brain, but without being able to reach it through the hard protective shell, that information wasn't very useful.

"Maybe we could tip it over," Four suggested. "Look, it's legs are extended really far so that you can't hop up onto its head and then up onto the wall. I bet if we knocked it over it couldn't get back up. Then it's harmless."

"But how do we do that?" Marie asked. "Top heavy as it is, we would still need something heavy to hit it with."

Four shrugged. "I bet if we all kicked it at the same time we could do it. We'd just have to get up on the wall to do it."

Three stared at the wall. It was tall enough to prevent an octoling from getting over, but most inklings could probably manage it if they got close enough. The problem was that a super jump made you vulnerable, both in flight and briefly upon landing. Ideally, they'd initiate the super jump without being anticipated, but with the prison on full alert, that wasn't likely.

Three tapped the ground a few times with her finger, an idea slowly coming to her. "I think I know what to do," she said. "We'll use the flooder's own strength against it. But we'll need to clear off the battlements first." She looked over at Callie. "You keep up your tentacle exercises right?"

Callie grinned. "Of course. What do you have in mind?"

Octotrooper 648 looked anxiously left and right, beneath its stick-like legs, the little hover platform hummed as 648 guided it back and forth along the high, narrow place one of the tall ones told it to patrol.

648 normally didn't mind it when one of the tall ones told it to patrol somewhere, it enjoyed getting to move on the platform instead of hurting its skinny legs every time it tried to go somewhere. This time though, there was something wrong. It knew this because the tall ones looked worried. The tall ones were bigger and stronger than it was, and if they were scared, then it had to be scared too.

It thought of its name over and over in its head. It liked its name; it was one of the first things it had ever known. Its name was something that belonged to it and not someone else.

648's thinking was interrupted when the hover platform jolted and slowed to a stop right next to the edge. It yelped in fright and looked around frantically, trying to see what had hit it. 648 saw another octotrooper, but one with a strange shaped head. It had crashed into 648's platform on the narrow high place, nearly causing it to fall.

648 didn't like the ones with two-tentacles. They were mean and this one was making a lot of loud angry noises and a not-nice face at it. 648 didn't know what to do so it made angry noises back.

One of the tall ones made a sharp noise and walked over to them on their thicker, prettier legs. The tall one yelled, not at 648, but at the two-tentacled one. This made 648 happy. It didn't like being yelled at.

Then, while the tall one moved closer to yell more at the two-tentacles one, 648 saw something move on the other side, beyond the high, narrow place. Then two things landed in front of it, sharp, green, and growing. Bad things!

648 shrieked and then it died in a double explosion of green ink, along with the tall one and two-tentacled one, afraid no longer.

The odd collision between the two octotroopers was unexpected but welcome. Three nodded to the others and raced towards the wall, trying to close the distance as much as possible while the guards on the wall were distracted.

Callie pulled her tentacles back, having already warmed them up. Four and Marie, having changed their ink to green, very carefully placed a splatbomb each in one of Callie's suckers. Callie latched onto the splatbombs and the two followed Three to the wall. Callie waited for the right moment and then spun and whipped her tentacles nearly as hard as she could. The splatbombs flew through the air just as Three initiated her super jump. One of the octotroopers shrieked as the bombs landed perfectly among their number, and then was cut off as they exploded.

Three landed half a second later, taking in the situation on the wall in even less time, then ran in the direction of the gate.

Another octotrooper shrieked as she approached. She never felt bad about killing these things. It felt more like she was doing the octarians a favour by getting rid of them. They tried to shoot her with the fixed ink nozzles on their hover platforms but she evaded them with contemptuous ease and took them out one after the other.

_Careful_, she told herself. _Don't get overconfident. There are more guards here than there should be, so there may be something else up._

She took out all the guard towers on her way. They were a bit more difficult, as the chargers used by the octosnipers were larger and longer ranged than even their own Hero Charger. Still, It's rate of fire wasn't any better and octosnipers rarely knew more than one way to use their weapon.

Three waited for the 'sniper to fire, dodged, then leapt off the wall towards the guard tower. Still moving through the air she fired her hero shot, coating the wall in green and then diving into it.

The 'sniper fired again but it couldn't bring it's gun down nearly enough to hit her or displace her ink. The octoling in the tower tried to get around the 'sniper to do exactly that, but found Three had already jumped to the side, out of the ink and grabbed onto the corner of the tower, using it to flip herself up to her feet, and then fired.

The octoling screamed and evaporated in a cloud of ink. The octosniper turned but it was too slow and was just as quickly dispatched.

Safe for the time being, Three took stock of the situation.

All her fellow agents were on the wall. Callie was steamrolling her way along the wall in the opposite direction Three had taken, with Four supporting her from behind with the charger. Marie was taking one of the walkways that connected the battlements to the central building. It was quite a novelty to see Marie barreling through with short range dualies instead of her charger. Despite her alleged lack of proficiency with them, the forces opposing her barely seemed a hindrance.

'_Guess that leaves me to take care of the gate._ Except, there was nobody at the gate. Everyone guarding it had left, with most making their way towards either Marie or Callie and Four. It made sense. There wasn't much point guarding a gate if all your enemies were already inside. Except, they had left _something_ to guard the gate.

Three glared at the flooder as it stood in place, waiting for something not Octarian to come its way. Normally, they followed a patrol path and kept following it until ordered otherwise, but this time it simply stood and waited.

Three jumped from the tower and landed back on the wall. She looked around again, searching for anyone close, or perhaps even some hidden traps, but there was nothing to be seen.

Three glanced again at her comrades. She was still worried about Marie fighting alone, but she was holding up well and with all the enemies occupied, this was her best chance to take out the flooder before someone moved it elsewhere.

Three hurried to the gate and peered straight down at the ground, grinning when she discovered her hunch had been correct: the ground in front of the gate was neither stone or concrete, it was just dirt.

The flooder noticed her now. It beeped and buzzed as it sprang to life and hurried towards her. Three backed away and let the flooder bang into the wall. Even with its telescoping legs fully extended, it was only three-quarters as tall as the wall at the gate. It couldn't get Three where she was but it mindlessly tried anyway, exactly as Three had hoped.

Three hurried across the footbridge over the gate and the flooder followed her, raining ink from its underside the whole way. When Three stopped and the flooder bumped into the wall again, Three did the same in the opposite direction, and then again, and again.

The flooder followed Three back and forth with the tirelessness of a machine, despite its organic brain. Wherever Three went, it tried to follow. As it went back and forth through the same space again and again, it's small wheels slowly carved a groove in the dirt that got deeper with every passing, accelerated as the constant oozing of ink started to turn the dirt into thick mud.

Three felt like she was doing shuttle runs with all this back and forth. Perhaps one might consider this a waste of energy, but it wasn't too often one got to truly flummox a flooder.

Finally, after who knew how many times back and forth, the flooder came to a halt. It tried to move but its wheels spun uselessly, only helping it sink deeper.

Three allowed herself a small chuckle, despite feeling exerted. Now, without having to actually destroy it, the flooder was out of action. While she caught her breath, she looked towards the others.

Marie had managed to reach the door to the main building. Four was sniping octolings trying to fight from the roof, and Callie was a tempest of magenta ink and deadly tentacles as she tore into a cluster of mindless octotroopers trying to defend the cell block.

Three frowned. That hadn't been part of the initial plan. Callie and Marie were supposed to enter the cell block together, but Marie was occupied and time was of the essence.

Three jumped off the wall and landed on the flooders flat top. The machine still struggled to try and move. Three was then able to safely jump from it onto the ground below. She ran from the flooder, and peeked over her shoulder to see it try to give chase. It was useless though, that thing was stuck good. Very good.

Three keyed her radio. "Agent 2, Agent 3. I'm going to help Agent 1 take the cell block. She's already moving in." Although she didn't actually hear it, she could hear Marie cursing in her head.

"No choice then. Go for it but be careful."

Callie had already finished taking out all the octotroopers guarding the entrance to the cell block. Three caught up to her as she caught her breath.

"You okay?" Three asked.

"Yeah," Callie panted. "Just, a bit tougher to do this when you're dealing with second puberty on top of it all."

Three grimaced. She hadn't thought of that. Surely it was bound to affect Callie and Marie's endurance as well as their peak performance.

"I'm going in first," Three said. "Back me up."

"Fine," Callie said, her breath now caught up. "Let's do this."

The doors to the cell block had been shut and locked but Callie inputted a sequence of numbers in the keypad and it clicked open. Three frowned at her but questions could wait. Right now, she had a job to do.

Running over her mental map of the cell block, she burst through the door, weapon raised, only to find that her mental map was off.

It wasn't entirely wrong. It was still a large rectangular space, and it still had a walkway for each of the three levels, but each of those walkways was sloped, and at the end of each long side of the walkway, was a massive octohurler.

"Well, intel is never right anyway." Callie muttered. "I'll take the left, you take the right." Without another word, they split up.

Three charged up the right side of the first-level walkway. She had only encountered a handful of octohurlers before the metro; although, Four said she had encountered them frequently in Octo Canyon.

With their large size and ugly appearance, they were certainly intimidating, but they were also easy to defeat if you knew how.

The hurler vomited its rolonium at her but Three was running so quickly it had managed little more than that before she sent the roll hurtling back at it, splatting it instantly. Callie simply swung her roller like a bat and sent the rolonium meant for her, flying back towards its disgorger.

Up on the other two levels, the remaining octohurlers cried out in impatience and anger for the loss of their comrades and the stubborn refusal of the intruders to die. Three and Callie shared a nod and then they turned to squidform and superjumped, crossing past each other in the air, and then turning back to inkling form just before reaching the next level.

The octohurlers cried out once more, this time in shock and horror, as the inklings decided not to play their game, but flank them instead.

Three held down the trigger on her hero shot until the hideous mass of mutated octo' flesh vanished in a violet explosion of glittering goo. She landed on the ink-slick platform, making a small turn to look at the octohurler on the top level opposite her. Callie was ready and so was she. They ended them quickly, leaving the room mercifully silent, save for the sounds of her and Callie panting.

Three made her way back over to Callie as she leaned against the wall, catching her breath yet again. This mission was proving to be tough for her. She hoped Marie was faring better.

"You alright?"

Callie flashed green. "Yeah, I'll live. Let's do another quick check to make sure there are no surprises. Then, hopefully, we can start letting people out of these cells."

She and Callie split up again and for the first time, Three actually noticed the people inside the cells. They were gaunt figures behind walls of old, yellowy plastic. Three could only imagine how little oxygen was in those cells given how small any gaps would have to be to prevent escape.

As they had been told, few of the cells were actually occupied, only a half-dozen prisoners in all.

"Agent 2," Callie called over the radio. "Agent 1. What's your status?"

"Just about to call you, Agent 2," Marie's voice replied. "The rest of the garrison agreed to surrender. You ready for us to pop the cells?"

"Please do."

A second later, all of the plastic doors over the cells opened with a hiss of air, and the half-dozen prisoners stepped outside.

None of them looked particularly healthy. Underfed and stuck in that cell for so long, it was no wonder. Half of them took nearly a full minute to emerge from their confinement, as if unable to believe it was happening.

"They're all out," Callie said, unable to hide the delight in her voice. She looked on the verge of tears."

"Good to hear. We're coming your way with our own prisoners. See you in a few. Agent 2 out."

Her communication over, Callie hurried to the nearest shambling figure, an octoling with tentacles just barely clinging to the colour yellow. Her tentacles were so shriveled and pale it was hard to tell in the poor light.

Callie gently wrapped her arms around her and the octoling, a bit stunned at first, hugged back weakly.

"I missed you," Callie said.

"I… can't believe you came back," the octoling replied hoarsely.

"I couldn't bear leaving you like this. I just couldn't."

Similar interactions happened with the remaining octolings. The healthiest looking one was actually one of the elite Takezonesu, her black tentacles matted and her body distressingly thin, but she still carried a confidence and presence about her. Callie hugged her last but no less warmly. Still, Three found her finger hovering close to her hero shot's trigger.

The doors to the cell block opened again and a line of ten octolings appeared with Marie and Four behind them, ushering them into one of the cells.

"You can't put all of us in here," One of them cried, "there won't be enough oxygen! We'll suffocate."

"Fine," Marie groused. "Agent 4, take half of them and put 'em in that cell."

Four did as ordered, ushering five into the cell next to the first and then closing the plastic door with a soft click.

"You're going to leave us in here?" One of them cried, eyes watering.

"Just until we get away," Marie told them. "We'll send someone to get you out soon. My advice, get some sleep. You use less oxygen that way."

"Agent 2," Callie chided. "You could try to be a little nicer about it."

"I doubt it would be appreciated," Marie replied stiffly. "Now let's get moving. We're behind schedule and a lot of these girls look like they need a doctor."

Callie pursed her lips but dropped the issue, instead focusing on helping the prisoners out of the cell block, leaving the prison guards locked in their own cells.

As they rounded the side of the main building and came into sight of the gate, Callie saw the flooder for the first time in its new predicament, and laughed.

"Wow, nice going, Three. Looks like your idea really worked."

The flooder tried again to get out of its rut and come at them but it only managed to flick up specks of mud from its deep ruts.

Four stuck her tongue out at the flooder while Three made a point of ignoring it entirely.

Not once through this entire operation thus far had she been plagued with guilt or worries. It felt almost like the relapse had been purely as a result of her conflicted feelings about Eight. She couldn't be sure but that was what it felt like. She couldn't complain but she had this nagging, uneasy feeling she couldn't describe.

_Maybe the captain's finally realized what we're doing. Yeah, he's probably really mad right now._ She only hoped that Marie would be able to placate him eventually, but they would all be subjected to a stern tonguelashing regardless. Three was not looking forward to that.

Avrika had her head on a swivel as she marched, octoshot in hand, just behind the first squad. Six of her best octolings, marched in single-file, moving slowly and cautiously as they neared the small wooden building sitting on a large concrete pad. The place seemed so nondescript and plain. It was hard to believe -embarrassing really, that operations which had disrupted Octarian military efforts for decades had come from this place.

So far, there was no sign of movement, no sign that there was anyone guarding it. The entire way there they hadn't seen a single outpost, surveillance position, or sentry. It seemed the Inklings had gotten even more complacent than Avrika had dared to hope.

_Well, that suits me just fine. Let's just hope it stays that way and we can get out of here._

On the other side of the route, second squad waited for her signal.

Avrika waited and then the soldier on point gave her the OK signal that they were in position. Avrika then signaled the other squad, and they moved.

Both squads moved, swiftly and silently. Avrika was glad she had left her slow and stupid octo troopers behind to maintain the illusion of her forces' presence back at home. They couldn't have handled some of the rougher terrain to get there anyway. She did have a handful of octocopters nearby however, just in case.

Both squads swarmed the small wooden building, her squad stacking up by the door before pushing inside. She heard the sounds of inkguns going off but it didn't sound like anyone inside had been hit.

The leader of 2nd squad approached her, face exuberant, even behind her goggles. "Ma'am, we've found him!"

Around and behind the small building Avrika found what appeared to be a glass globe atop a stout pedestal. Inside, a figure bobbed up and down, green eyes glaring irately at her.

Avrika swallowed nervously and bowed. "Lord Octavio."

The figure in the globe huffed. "Well, it's about time."


	19. Love Hurts

This wasn't the first time Eight had been to Inkopolis Plaza. After seeing it referenced so many times in magazines found throughout the metro, it had been one of the first places she wanted to visit. She had been more than a little disappointed when she found it nearly deserted, populated only by a handful of people who enjoyed the nearby skate ramps. Most of the hip-happening shops had been replaced with more mundane ones too; although, the Squid Sister's old studio had been turned into a gift shop for their merchandise and still seemed to be drawing a decent crowd. Next door, one outlet was being converted into a café.

One thing that hadn't changed was the large screen that overlooked the plaza. As part of the buildup towards the new final splatfest, the screen had been playing the events of every splatfest the Squid Sisters had hosted from first to last.

For Eight, it felt a little special seeing them from back then. They seemed so youthful, and they even had a kind of innocence to them they didn't seem to have anymore.

The large screen read 10:10, time for her to go. She didn't want to arrive too early lest she potentially give away the operation. Fortunately, the lack of people in the plaza made it easier to sneak into the sewers unnoticed and the route to Cuttlefish Cabin was shorter from the plaza.

She swam along the sewers in octopus form, wondering how she was going to keep Captain Cuttlefish from either trying to interfere with the operation or going crazy.

_Well, I suppose I wouldn't be happy either if my subordinates conducted an unauthorized operation, especially one so risky. Still, the Captain isn't unreasonable. Surely he wouldn't have been opposed to-._

A hand suddenly reached out from a small alcove and grabbed her, pulling her into the alcove with it.

Eight struggled, wriggling her eight tentacles, but a familiar voice spoke to her in quick, sharp tones. "Settle down, Agent 8. We've got trouble.

_Captain Cuttlefish?_ Eight went still and the elderly inkling released her. He gestured for her to take a peek at the grate just ahead.

Eight shuffled along in her octopus form and used her suckers to climb up the sides until she reached the grate on top and then made absolutely certain to camouflage herself before pushing gently up through it. What she saw made her blood chill.

Octolings, roughly a dozen in number, stood around Cuttlefish cabin, all armed and wearing goggles except for one, clearly the senior officer. Worse than that, however, Octavio was free.

"You didn't take as long as the last ones to get me out, so I'll give you credit for that, at least," she heard Octavio say. "But did it really have to take so long?"

The officer bowed in apology. "I'm sorry, My Lord. We- I've only been in command a few weeks. I came as soon as I thought there was an opportunity."

"Nevermind," Octavio groused. "The inklings stupidly sent all their agents out to free some prisoners from the Polip Prison facility. By now, they're probably on their way back."

Eight tensed. Octavio had managed to hear all of their planning? She supposed it shouldn't have mattered given that he was imprisoned, but now, suddenly, it seemed careless.

"That's why I was hoping to get you to safety before they do," the officer continued. "If we hurry we can-."

"If we hurry we can set up an ambush," he interrupted.

The officer flinched. She looked shocked, even horrified at the suggestion. "But, My Lord, there are only a dozen of us, against all four agents. Even in an ambush scenario we-."

"And just what do you think would happen if we ran away from here?" Octavio bellowed. "As soon as they found me missing they'd chase after us. You'd have to fight them regardless. This way, we have a chance to take them out when they least expect it, right in front of their own headquarters."

Eight felt a surge of panic. If they managed to create a killzone and caught the agents by surprise - tired, and burdened with their charges, they just might succeed in taking them all out. She couldn't let that happen.

The officer seemed reluctant but she saluted and began passing out orders. The other soldiers were a mix of eagerness and apprehension but did as instructed, heading back the way they came to a more advantageous position. Octavio followed them, chuckling to himself.

The officer grabbed one soldier, holding her back.

"You stay and watch that grate," she pointed in Eight's direction. "We don't want anyone coming up behind us."

The soldier, who couldn't have been more than fourteen, formed her lips in a near pout but wandered towards the grate as instructed. That done, the officer hurried after the rest of her command and Octavio. Eight felt sorry for her.

Dropping from the grate, she hurried over to Captain Cuttlefish who was still waiting in the alcove.

"They are setting up an ambush for the agents."

"I heard." Cuttlefish grunted. "Agent 3 and Agent 4 should have been on their way back from their mission a while ago, at least in time for me to get a message off to them before those eight-legged bottom-feeders arrived. Erm, no offense. I've tried calling Agents 1 and 2, but they're not answering."

"Hm," was Eight's reply to that. It seemed the captain was unaware that Callie and Marie were also on this mission and that Three and Four were not doing the mission they had been assigned by him, at least not yet.

"I am sure they are on their way now. Perhaps they ran into trouble on the way back."

"Probably a distraction to keep them busy while they freed Octavio," Cuttlefish grumbled. "Did they leave a guard?"

"Just one. I think I can handle her."

"Risky. Coming out of that grate, you're vulnerable."

"True, but she will not be expecting an octoling."

"Which just makes it more likely she'll shoot first without checking her target."

"It will work," she assured him. "I can make it work."

She didn't wait for his approval. She made her way back to the grate and peered out of it again. The girl left behind sat on a patch of grass next to the grate, octoshot in her lap. Eight was glad she had worn her uniform for today, as well as her ink tank. Unfortunately, her octoshot was in the cabin.

_We'll, this is still nothing compared to the metro._ She took a deep breath and passed through the grate.

The guard was late in noticing her, not reacting until Eight had nearly finished reforming. Startled she leapt to her feet and pointed her octoshot at Eight, taking a few steps back, and then lowered it slightly when she recognized her as an octoling.

"Hello," Eight greeted casually. "Are you lost?"

The guard frowned and looked around. "N-no. I'm standing guard. What are you doing here? Why did you come through that grate?"

"Because I needed to come here."

Eight could imagine the girl blinking in confusion behind her goggles as she took another step back.

"Why did you come here?" She asked, rephrasing her earlier question.

"Because I was needed here."

The guard frowned. "You're reinforcements?"

"Something of that sort." Eight stepped off the grate and began walking casually towards Cuttlefish Cabin. The guard, looking more puzzled than ever, followed her.

"Wait, how do I know you're not a mimic?"

Eight looked back at her over her shoulder without breaking stride. "An inkling mimic? Such a thing exists?"

"For all we know they could."

Eight shrugged her tentacles. "I've seen plenty of inklings but I've never seen a mimic."

"But that's exactly what a mimic would say."

Eight sighed and walked into the cabin. It had often been a mess, despite Marie's best efforts, but this was probably the worst Eight had seen it. Papers were strewn everywhere, drawers and cabinets were all opened and even the futon bed had been tossed aside. But, the map was untouched, as were the cork boards, so it wasn't the worst ransacking.

Eight wandered over to one of the lockers where the agents kept items they didn't want to risk losing on a mission. They had all been opened and she made a quick check. Three and Four's phones were both still there and although things had been rummaged through, there didn't appear to be anything missing, just displaced.

"We were told not to disturb anything until lintelligence could get here," the guard told her.

"I'm sure they'll appreciate that."

Eight went to her own locker and pulled out her octoshot and a pair of binding straps, pleased to see them untouched. The guard lifted her octoshot warily but Eight just smiled at her.

"What's your name, soldier?"

The guard frowned. "Trooper Vella Stormhook."

"Stormhook is a good name for a soldier."

Vella smiled proudly. "I thought so. It is my father's name; my mother's name is Turfer."

Eight stiffened and she stared wide-eyed at the other octoling. "M-my mother's name is Turfer."

Vella paused and then lifted her goggles, revealing a pair of stunned amber eyes. "Conko Turfer?"

"Yes!"

They shared a gasp and then, without thinking, Eight ran over and hugged her, her hearts soaring.

"I can't believe it. I'd given up on ever meeting one of my sisters."

Vella hugged her back, almost clinging to her. "I never thought I would meet one of my older sisters either. I thought you all probably died during one of the inkling invasions."

Eight frowned and pulled back. "What inkling invasions?"

Now it was Vella who frowned. "How could you not know?"

"I fought in the battle against Agent 3 alongside Octavio," Eight explained. "That was my very first real battle. I don't remember it ever being referred to as an invasion though."

Vella gaped. "You fought the Green Demon? You lived?"

Eight felt her hearts sinking again. The mention of Three reminded her why she was here. She had let herself get carried away. She was going to have to do something she honestly didn't want to.

"Yes, I lived. In fact, Agent 3 saved my life."

Vella frowned, eyes filled with confusion. "She… did?"

"Yes, Vella - Sister. Now I'm here to save yours."

Vella shook her head. "No, they're setting up an ambush and they're led by Lord of War Octavio-."

"There are four agents coming," Eight interrupted sharply. "Two of them have fought Octavio one on one before and come out victorious. I'm sure I don't need to tell you about Agent 3's reputation. It's well earned and Agent 4 is also highly skilled. Not only that, they're coming with other octolings, former prisoners."

"The Polip Prison," Vella acknowledged. "Yeah, we know. But if they're prisoners-."

"They're only crime was following orders," Eight replied harshly. "They did what they were told, what Octavio told them to do, like good soldiers. Yet, they were punished for it because they were 'inconvenient.' That's hardly the octarian ideal."

"But… then why would the inklings…" She trailed off, her face scrunched up in confusion.

"Rescue them?" Eight asked. "Because it was the right thing to do. And now, I have to do the right thing."

In a single flowing motion, she dropped her octoshot, and knocked Vella's own weapon from her hands. Vella was so stunned that she was unable to react when Eight grabbed her and forced her to the floor. By the time she fully registered what was happening, Eight had already bound her hands behind her back with one of the binding strips, too tight to let her transform.

"What are you doing?" Vella cried, struggling as Eight fought to bind her by the ankles.

"Saving you, like I said." Eight bound Vella's feet and then, carefully, pulled the communicator off Vella's tentacle, unable to look her sister in the eye. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you interfere."

She stood and heard Vella whimpering. It broke her soul more than she feared it might.

"Why are you doing this? Are you a traitor?"

"Some might call me a traitor," Eight replied softly. "But whatever people call me, right now I'm going out there and I'm going to save your squad, if I can." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I know you're confused, angry, feeling betrayed, but I don't have time to explain everything. I will later though, I promise. Hopefully, when I do, you can find it in your soul to forgive your big sister."

Eight started to leave but paused at the threshold. Then, she slowly reached into her pocket and removed her phone. She scrolled with her thumb to her music app and then set it on the floor next to Vella, who stared at it.

"Maybe this will help. I'll be back soon."

Eight left the cabin just as the first beats of Calamari Inkantation played, tears stinging the corners of her eyes, not looking back.

Captain Cuttlefish was tottering towards the cabin when she emerged.

"Nice job, Agent 8. Pretty clever how you took her out. Hope you didn't add to the mess in there too much." He was joking but Eight couldn't bring herself to smile. That wasn't his fault though.

Eight took a deep breath to calm herself.

"She is tied up inside. Please do not harm her."

Cuttlefish paused, his old brows creasing. "You took her prisoner?"

"I will take responsibility for her when I return."

"That's not what I-." He cut himself off and waved his hand. "Never mind. We have more pressing things to deal with, but where are you going?"

"I have to stop the ambush. I'm going."

"Don't be hasty. Once I get a hold of Agent 3 and 4, they'll know it's there."

"But if they positioned themselves well, then Three and Four will have to go through the killzone to get to them. I cannot allow that."

Cuttlefish sighed. "Fine, but try not to get in trouble before you have backup."

"I'll do my best." Eight fastened Vella's communicator to her own right-front tentacle, then ran after the other Octarians.

Three crouched atop a pile of concrete rubble, scanning left and right for signs of movement. There was a slight wind now, gently kissing her face with fresh, cool air, very welcome after the intense fight in the dome. Although, if she was honest, she had the easiest time of everyone down there.

She glanced behind her where Four sat perched atop a piece of reinforced concrete sticking up from another pile of rubble like an extended finger. She alternated between holding her charger and occasionally looking at something through the scope. She bounced in place a little bit, eager to get moving.

Below, sheltered within a ring of debris, the former prisoners were enjoying a simple meal of protein bars supplied by Callie and Marie. Apparently, they had just eaten prior to the alert going up and so urged the agents to keep going rather than stay in the dome and eating there. Even Marie had to admit that staying in the dome where they could be trapped inside was probably pretty stupid and so amended her plan.

It was easy to see Marie's earlier logic though. Even surrounded by mounds of debris, the group was vulnerable and there was a lot of other debris around that could act as cover for any approaching foe.

The liberated octolings seemed delighted to be out of their prison and in the open air. They chewed slowly and thoroughly on their food and took frequent, careful sips of water. Once they had rested a bit, they would continue towards the cabin.

Three's headphones crackled as Captain Cuttlefish's voice came through.

"-ome in. Agent 3, Agent 4, do you read me?"

_Here it comes,_ Three grimaced.

"Agent 3 here."

"Agent 4, here." Four's voice sounded pained.

"Finally," Cuttlefish sounded very relieved. "Where have you been? Wait, what are Agent 1 and 2 doing there? Who are all those octos? Did all of my agents decide to take prisoners today?"

Three frowned. "What do you mean?"

"We have a prisoner in HQ that Eight captured. Won't tell me anything useful though."

"I'm a prisoner of war, and I was never told I had to say _anything_ to you."

Three stared across the gap to Four and they both shared the same look of confusion.

"Why is Eight suddenly taking prisoners-." Three cut herself off as a horrible realization dawned on her.

"Right," Cuttlefish growled. "While you lot were off making friends, Eight was here helping me protect headquarters and all of Inkopolis from an invasion! Octavio's escaped and Eight's run off to stop an ambush that's waiting for you just beyond here."

Three cursed inwardly. Eight was probably going to try and talk down the other octolings, getting them to surrender or just go home. Maybe she would use non-lethal ink to try and take them down. That was never ideal. Non-lethal ink didn't just allow your opponent to put themselves back together after about five to ten minutes, but it also took more shots to bring down an opponent.

"Put the girls on," Cuttlefish demanded.

Three flashed blue and climbed down the rubble pile. Marie watched her approach and eyed the headset in Three's hand, and then looked back at Three.

"We're not here."

"He has a camera on us," Three said. "He can see you."

Marie's mantle turned maroon and she reluctantly accepted

"Hi, Gramps."

"Don't 'hi gramps' me, young lady. You two are in a huge amount of trouble right now. If it weren't for all the octos waiting in ambush for you I'd hustle over there and whack your behinds until they glowed blue!"

The two older girls grimaced, violent ripples travelling through their mantles.

"So, I'm guessing that someone snuck up behind us and have us cut off?"

"And ransacked our HQ and freed Octavtio, again, and now Eight's run off to… well, I honestly don't know what she plans to do against two whole squads of octos. I just hope she'll wait until you get there, which you better do quickly!"

"Okay, we get it," Marie said. "We'll do it."

"Now, Agent 2."

"Yes, sir."

Marie returned Three's headset. "You and Four go on ahead and take care of that ambush. We'll get home when we can."

"Understood. We'll come back for you once that's done."

Marie flashed green and then Four trotted up.

"Can I have my dualies back?"

"Might as well." Marie traded weapons with Four and then the two younger agents hurried off.

"Four," Three said as they jogged along. "I need a favour and it's going to sound stupid. We might even get in trouble."

Four laughed. "We're already in trouble. As soon as the Captain's finished with Ma- with Agent 1 and 2, it'll be our behinds he goes after next."

Three smiled grimly. "I guess so. Listen, here's what we need to do."

**Author's Notes:**

So, yes, I gave Eight a little sister. Typically, Eight is the little sister character in Splatoon stories, so I wanted to try and do something different. I think it adds a little more weight to what's about to happen in the next chapter too, along with any future decisions that Eight makes. Stay tuned for the next chapter where the ink hits the fan.


	20. Love is a Battlefield

Avrika sighed pleasantly, feeling the wind on her back tentacles, more moist and refreshing than she was used to. What calm it afforded her was welcome as she struggled to keep her nerves under control.

Octavio had agreed to her choice of an ambush position. An escarpment roughly a few hundred meters from the Inkling's headquarters acted as the border between Inkopolis and Octarian territory. The route between the domes and Inkopolis passed through a place where earth and rock had collapsed to form a small gap just large enough to squeeze a flooder through. She had arrayed her troops in a U-pattern atop the rocks and two on either side of the gulley at the foot of the formations, just in case.

She went from position to position, checking on everyone, making sure they were as ready as they could be. Some had their eyes closed, praying while they clutched some item of significance- sometimes their weapon; while others quietly joked. A few didn't say or do anything. Everyone had their own way of dealing with impending mortality.

Turning her back to her troops, Avrika gently stroked the pendant at her neck and then gave it a firm squeeze. With a soft click, it opened, revealing an image of herself and two beautiful baby octolings, barely a year old.

She blinked back tears that threatened to come spilling forth and firmly shut the pendant closed. She had to remain confident and in control for her troops. Even if the situation seemed hopeless or futile, she had to act like it was possible to win if she yelled at them hard enough.

She glanced at Octavio who was squatting down atop one of the rock formations, tapping his tentacles on the ground impatiently.

"Tch, what's taking them so long?" He grumbled.

While Avrika was in no hurry to face the biggest military threat to their nation, she had to admit that the anticipation of it was getting to her, to all of them. They did seem to be taking their sweet time.

She moved to the opposite edge of their position from Octavio and stood behind an old tree. Carefully manipulating the papillae in her tentacle she triggered the control to activate her communicator and brought it close to her mouth before whispering into it.

"Latria, are you there?"

There was a long pause before her very relieved executive officer answered.

"Yes, I am. It's good to hear you alive, ma'am."

Avrika couldn't help but smile a little. "I'm sure it is. By any chance are you still tracking the enemy agents?"

"Yes ma'am. Actually, they've split up."

Avrika frowned. "Really?"

"Yes. There are two staying with the prisoners they've liberated from a nearby prison facility. At least now we know what they were up to."

Avrika grunted. "And where are the other two?"

"Agent 3 and Agent 4 are heading in your direction, quickly. Where are you exactly?"

"We're on the border escarpment just beyond the enemy headquarters, so I think that puts us just beyond the edge of our sector map."

"Yes," Latria said slowly. "That sounds correct. Ten minutes maximum before they reach you, assuming they don't stop to rest first, but probably less." Another pause. "Are you… going to fight them?"

"Our Lord of War insisted we try to ambush them," Avrika replied darkly. "But, I can understand his logic and at least now we aren't facing all four of them at once, maybe we have a chance. But even in a best case scenario, most of us won't be coming back."

"I see…"

That probably wasn't something an officer was supposed to say, especially not to a subordinate, but when it came to Agent 3, there was no point in denying the inevitable.

"If you don't hear from anyone in an hour, assume we're all dead." She paused then added, "except perhaps Lord Octavio. They seem averse to killing him."

"Understood. I pray we will talk again soon, ma'am."

"I'm sure we will. Out."

Avrika glanced back at Octavio from behind the tree and debated telling him about the news. But no, that would reveal she still had communication with her command centre. Besides, regardless of how many agents came, once they reached a certain point, the ambush would be sprung.

She stroked her pendant again and closed her eyes, beginning to utter a long prayer to the gods for the safety and well-being of her daughters.

One skill Eight had worked hard as a soldier to develop which had not atrophied since coming to Inkopolis was stealth. For a maid, being seen but not heard was not only an asset, but a virtue. Sometimes it was best for a maid to not even be noticed as she went about her duties, and were often overlooked by some. The present situation wasn't all that different.

Eight kept low, sticking to the taller grass to provide as much cover as possible as she crawled to the shelter of a large boulder. However, her caution seemed unnecessary as nobody was even looking in her direction.

Eight recalled how her old instructors would have a fit they set up in a position with nobody watching behind them. You always had to have someone watching your six-o'clock. These troops had tunnel-visioned entirely on the oncoming agents. Then again, considering who was coming, perhaps they were so scared that whatever might come up behind them seemed miniscule by comparison.

By now, Eight better understood why Three had so often called herself a monster. She was seeing it first hand here, some of the more subtle effects of the terror she instilled. It was sobering.

Eight managed to make it behind the cover of the boulder and sit herself down before the NSS communicator pressed against the side of her head buzzed and Captain Cuttlefish's voice came through.

"Agent 8, Agent 3 and Agent 4 are on their way to you, be there in a few minutes. Hold out until then.

Eight gritted her teeth. "But I have to attack first and spoil the ambush before the ambush springs on them."

"Are you not able to communicate with them?"

"Not so far. Maybe the ground is in the way."

"Damn octos must have taken out the relay transmitter," Cuttlefish cursed. "I'll see what I can do. Just sit tight, Agent 8."

But Eight would not, could not sit tight. If she was going to save these octolings and Three and Four, she would have to act well before they arrived. If a few minutes was all she had before they arrived, then she had only seconds to being her attack.

Camouflaging herself again, Eight peeked around the corner of the boulder. Octavio was on the far side of the ambush from her. The officer she had seen earlier was walking to a position on the left, her weapon in hand. And it was she that adopted the rear-guard position.

_Smod_ Eight cursed. This just got much more difficult. She had been hoping to hit Octavio's side first, hopefully bringing him down enough to affect morale and hopefully get them to surrender, unlikely as that seemed. Now, she would have to attack the left side, starting with the officer.

Eight's hearts hammered, her whole body was starting to shake as adrenaline pumped through her system. She couldn't wait anymore, she had to act. For the first time since the battle against Tartar, she made a quick prayer to Heaven and then moved.

As Eight burst from hiding the officer had her head down, staring at the pendant dangling from her neck, silver standing out against the black of her uniform. It allowed Eight to close the distance and by the time the officer looked up and noticed her, Eight's octoshot was already chugging.

The officer let out a cry just before she seemed to burst in a splash of magenta. Startled, the other soldiers turned, only for a splat bomb to land between two of them. They cried out too but failed to get away before it exploded, taking them both out.

"It's her!" Octavio bellowed. "The traitor. Get her!"

Even as Octavio spoke, Eight took out a fourth soldier and then a fifth before they finally began moving against her, their ambush forgotten in the face of this new threat.

One of them was careless, running ahead of the rest and allowing Eight to face her one on one. It was a common enough mistake that even those who only played turf war recognized it.

Eight was able to dodge her attacks and managed two shots to the face before the rest of her shots splatted the opposing octoling, but she was forced to scramble away as the rest attacked her together.

_This leaves seven._ I can do this. I can do it. I just need time. Her opponents, however, were not interested in giving her that time. Their expressions were masks of anger and confusion. Octavio bounced after them, waving his tentacles angrily and shouting.

Two of the other octolings threw splat bombs, not directly at her, but to the sides, trying to keep her restricted to a narrow lane of movement. A standard tactic but an effective one, unfortunately, they were not able to get close enough to capitalize on that. Although they tried to rush her, Eight was too fast for them, and she was gaining distance.

Eight inked a trail ahead of her and dove inside, trying to recover as much ink as she could on the move. More splatbombs were lobbed in her direction but they fell just short.

Eight sent one of her own back, forcing the octolings to scatter, which slowed them down. Even as she threw the splatbomb, Eight changed direction and made a beeline for one of the octolings on the right.

The other octoling's eyes widened in surprise and she fired, but too early. Eight was able to dodge around the shots and fired straight into her. She heard the terrified scream before she went splat, a haunting sound, and then whirled to her next opponent.

This one was more clever, and clearly more angry. She charged directly at Eight and lobbed one splatbomb to her right, forcing Eight to dodge left, right into the path of her weapon.

Eight ducked and dove forward, taking at least one hit to her chest before she rose up and sent her palm right into her opponent's chin. She heard the clack of a beak slamming together and then felt a blast to her bare midsection as her opponent fired wildly in an attempt to ward her away, unable to aim.

Eight remained stoic and raised her own octoshot, finishing her opponent off with a second-long burst.

Eight quickly wiped the hostile ink from her midriff. Without clothes to soak into and keep it there, its effects would quickly pass. For now, she had bigger worries.

The other octolings had recovered and were trying to cut off her escape. Already there were splatbombs arching towards her. Without time to think, she jumped up and ran.

The splat bomb detonated in her wake and she managed to outpace the octolings trying to cut her off. She had just made it. She could do this. There were only a handful left. She could-.

Something hard and fast, struck the back of her left leg. She heard a sickening crack and it gave out beneath her. She fell to the ground and tumbled to a stop. Only then did she feel the intense pain in her left leg. She gritted her teeth to bite back a cry and tried to rise, only for a large black boot to crash into her chest and slam her back onto the hard ground.

She hit her head and she saw nothing but starts for a second before her eyes refocused and she gazed up into the barrel of an octoshot pointing right between her eyes, mere centimeters away.

The other octolings surrounded her, all pointing their weapons. One ripped her octoshot away.

Octavio bounced into view, juggling a jagged rock in one tentacle. "This is what traitors get. When you turn your back on the people, you get no mercy."

Eight uttered a cough and glared back at Octavio. "I never once turned my back on the people, I turned my back on you. Didn't you notice I was using non-lethal ink."

"Changes nothing," he growled and stopped juggling the rock and raised it.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you the penalty for treason."

The octoling on top of Eight stepped away and let her octoshot fall. It allowed Eight to rise slightly, propping herself up onto her elbows. Her mind whirled, trying to figure out a way out of this situation as she glared up at her former leader.

Then, just past Octavio's large head, she saw it coming down towards her. Death itself.

Three heard the sounds of battle before she even rounded the last rubble pile before they reached the escarpment. She saw bursts of ink over the lip, shouts of octese and cries of fright and surprise that echoed past them.

"Something's gone wrong!" Four said, alarmed.

"We have to hurry," Three said, and turned her jog into a full on sprint.

Whatever ambush the Octarian had intended to spring, it was gone now. They all revealed their positions as they stood and faced the foe behind them, ignoring the two agents completely, perhaps even unaware of their impending arrival.

"Should we super jump?" Four panted.

"Not yet. Still too far. We'll do it last."

The octolings all vanished from view, running away from the escarpment and back towards Cuttlefish Cabin. That meant Eight was retreating, and if she was retreating then she was still alive.

They could still hear the sounds of ink weapons going off, frightened cries and Octavio's angry bellowing when they ran through the gully between the two rock formations and climbed up the escarpment. They could see the fight nearby and finally caught sight of Eight as she charged back towards the octolings when most of them scattered to avoid a splat bomb and the others ran too far ahead.

"She's doing good," Four said. "All that turf war is really… working out."

"Save your breath," Three chided. "And get ready."

They saw Eight take two hits as she went into melee range with one opponent. Four uttered a small squeak as multiple splat bombs were sent her way. Three felt a wave of relief when Eight managed to avoid them all. It looked like she was going to make it out of an attempted encirclement.

She heard Four gasp and Three noticed what Octavio was doing just in time to see him hurl a large rock towards Eight in a flat arc. Three felt a punch to the gut when she saw it smack into Eight's leg and sending her tumbling to the ground.

"Push it!" Three said. "And get ready to jump!"

Her feet ponded the hard ground and she constantly judged and rejudged the distance as Eight was surrounded and Octavio loomed over her. Knowing Octavio, he would monologue first before trying to kill her. That bought them just a bit of time. Hopefully, enough.

Neither of them spoke, yet they both transformed at the same time, filling their squid form mantles full to bursting with ink, and then pushed it out nearly as hard as they could.

Three watched the ground fall away from her and then stop as she reached the top of her arc. Octavio was now holding another strone up in the air. It looked like he was going to bring it down upon Eight.

_No!_ Three wouldn't let that happen; she couldn't. Not after they were finally coming to understand each other, not after all they went through just to get this far!

Three's mantle turned a volcanic red, her eyes blazed with the fury of a young star. She would not let Octavio or anyone else do this. She wouldn't let someone else she loved be taken away from her, not again.

Three brought out another splat bomb and gently tossed it to her left side to land among the octolings to Octavio's left. Four, on her right, would take the octolings on the other side. Octavio now occupied her entire vision and focus. He grew rapidly in her vision as the ground rose up to meet her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but it was too late.

Three landed feet first onto his head. Her shoes sank into his soft flesh and there was a horrible squelching sound as her weight and momentum powered her feet further until he erupted in a huge burst of dark-purple ink.

Half a second later, her splatbomb landed and Three jumped to cover Eight as it went off, taking out the octolings on that side.

Four landed at the same time, her own splatbomb going off before she finished the rest with her dualies barely a second later. And then, everything was quiet.

Three picked herself up and looked down at Eight even as she tried to catch her breath. The octoling's chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths. Her midriff was stained purple and her left leg was bent at an unnatural angle.

Three looked around for any signs of further activity and then set her hero shot down.

"You're leg is broken," she told her. "I need to set it. Four, find me a splint!"

Four, still panting, looked around frantically. "What am I supposed to use?"

"Anything straight and strong enough to keep her leg straight. Move it, before they wake up!"

Four hurried off to find something while Three set about trying to set Eight's leg.

Eight hissed in pain as Three carefully twisted the leg back into position.

"Feels like the cartilage should set back just fine," she said. "It broke but it didn't tear."

Eight nodded, teeth clenched until Three finished and they were left waiting for Four's splint.

"What did you mean when you said 'before they wake up?'"

Three flashed blue. "Well, Four and I flushed our tanks and switched to turf-war ink. I figured you were trying to stop the invaders without killing them so I didn't want to-."

Three was cut off as Eight grabbed her by the collar and yanked her in, planting a firm, searing kiss on her lips.

In her mind, fireworks exploded against a background of black nothingness. Her tiredness was forgotten, her mission, her problems, her immediate surroundings, all of it was gone in that instant. Seconds felt like hours, and Three found herself savouring the feeling of Hachiko's lips on hers.

They both parted with a gasp and Three found herself panting again. Eight still held onto her jacket, and lightly pressed their foreheads together.

"You're my hero," she whispered breathlessly.

Three was stunned and bewildered. Unconsciously, she brought her fingers up to her lips and touched them. Had she just had her first kiss? With Eight?

She finally looked into Eight's eyes. They didn't turn away, and the amber in them glittered like the sea on a bright summer's day. Her cheeks were dark blue and Three suspected her's were too.

She swallowed hard, not sure what she should say or do.

"Ahem."

Both girls turned to see Four standing off to the side, holding the barrel of one of the octoshots in her hand, a smug, face-splitting grin on her face.

"I think I found something we can use for a splint."

Three coughed a few times and hurriedly accepted the barrel then fished out her medical kit. Four helped her, keeping the leg steady while Three wrapped it up, her grin never fading. Honestly, the barrel was a bit short, but it would do for now.

Just as they finished, Captain Cuttlefish's voice crackled over their headsets.

"Agent 3," he began, sounding quite out of patience. "Do happen to know why Marina is here, at our headquarters, with a bunch of Octos, all armed?"

That finally caused Four's grin to leave; although, she was still smiling.

Three pulsed blue. "I'm sure Callie or Marie will be able to explain, sir. If you could send them here to help deal Eight and with these other prisoners, it would be appreciated."

"More prisoners? What is with my agents today?"

"Careful Cap'n," Four said. "People who don't know you might misunderstand."

"Don't be cheeky with me, girl, you two aren't out of hot water either."

Four grimaced and Three sighed, rising. "I'm going to go back to the ambush point. The ones Eight took out will be rising soon." She handed Eight back her octoshot. "You stay here until Work Detail gets here."

"I can go," Four insisted. "You should stay here with Eight." She looked at Three with that smug, knowing-all grin, and Three glared hooks at her even while the back of her neck flushed. Without answering the upstart, she just turned and jogged away.

After she left Eight smiled and shook her head. "I think I am beginning to understand her more now."

Four giggled. "I always thought she was pretty masculine but she's actually really girly on the inside. It's cute."

"Yes," Eight agreed. "Very cute."

Avrika blinked her eyes open and saw grass like a miniature forest of blades in front of her face. She groaned, feeling the side of her head as she slowly sat up.

She took a few seconds to collect herself and then checked her immediate surroundings. Parts of the ground were stained with ink, some of it already disappearing under the heat of the sun and exposure to the air. She saw one other octoling nearby lying unconscious on stone.

Then she remembered the ambush, or rather, how the ambushers themselves were ambushed. She had been looking down at her pendant when-." Her hand went flat against her chest. Her pendant was gone!

Her weary body filled with panic and she began searching for it frantically.

That's right. She had been looking down on it when she had found herself getting shot at. And then… nothing. She had been splatted. It wasn't something Octarians liked to experience often. Octolings, unlike the octotroopers and their manufactured ilk, could get splatted and survive, but only with weak ink, usually training ink. But why would someone ambush her with training ink?

She kept searching, feeling around in the grass and wondered how far it could have gotten from the force of her splatting.

Her eyes spotted something glinting a few meters away. Her hearts soared when she recognized it as her pendant. She hurriedly crawled towards it and reached out… only for another hand to pluck it away from her and lift it up.

She looked up angrily, ready to bite the head off the one who dared touch her pendant… and then her hearts stopped as a pair of hard, red eyes stared down at her, on a face framed by long green tentacles. She was staring into the eyes of the demon herself.

Avrika felt suddenly helpless, but her life didn't flash before her eyes, it had already done that just a short while ago. Instead, she thought about how she was about to die, and how her daughters would react should they find out what happened.

She had gone out, attacked the enemy HQ, but left it intact. She'd freed Octavio, only for him to probably be dead or captured again if the demon was here; she had tried to set up and ambush for the agents, only to get ambushed herself. She was a failure, a disaster of a warrior. Suddenly, all the pride she felt in being picked to breed thanks to her hard work and warrior prowess went up in smoke.

Her failure would stain the lives of her children, creating a prejudice against them that might ensure neither reproduced, egg layers or no.

Tears fell down her cheeks and she looked up at the demon, wondering why she was taking so long to kill her. She found the demon looking at her now open pendant, gazing down at what lay within.

Breath seemed to leave Avrika's body, wondering if she had somehow just cursed her children by letting the demon see their pictures. She wanted to snatch the pendant away and cover it with her body. The demon could pull it out of her cold dead hands!

The demon closed the pendant gently and then extended it towards her. Avrika blinked in surprise and frowned at it, wondering if it was some kind of trick. Even so, her hand instinctively reached out and gently plucked the pendant from the inkling's grasp. A huge feeling of relief filled her as she held the pendant against her chest. Her babies were safely with her again.

She looked back up at the inkling who was looking back at her, but her eyes weren't quite the fearsome orbs of death they had been before. Was it only her imagination. The inkling then motioned for her to stand and she obeyed. She wasn't going to kill her?

"Why?"

The demon looked past her before she answered in a voice so soft and so beautiful, that Avrika would have thought it an angel speaking instead.

"Because I'm not a monster." She then motioned Avrika towards a tree and went to wake up another trooper who was just coming back to consciousness, not nearly as gentle as she had been with her.

_I guess even inklings respect mothers._ She thought.

She looped the pendant over her neck again and then leaned back against the trunk of the tree, exhausted.

**Author's Notes:**

I like to think this chapter helped show Three and Eight's growth, not just as a couple but individually as well. They've had their struggles but now they can look towards the future.

I wanted to show that Octavio did have some competence left and give some reason about why the Octarians ever followed him to begin with. I hope I managed to accomplish that at least a little bit. I didn't want to deviate too much from what we see in-game.

I know some of you will find the fact they used non-lethal ink against Avrika's squads to be something of a cop-out; however, I like to think I have proven that the inkling agents are capable of using lethal force already and that their restraint against Avrika's troops has more to do with Eight and less to do purely with altruism. That and Three didn't want Eight mad at her ;)


	21. Between Past and Future

Eight slowly sipped her ice tea as soft music beat in the background. The drink helped distract her from the horrible itch caused by her leg cast. A crutch leaned against the table in front of her.

"Having fun?"

Across the table, Vella looked up, Eight's phone in her hand. She had been playing with the device ever since Eight arrived and handed it to her. Seeing her examine it, learn how to use the screen and activate the various apps reminded Eight of a young child.

Vella flushed and glanced left and right. "I'm just… analyzing it. We should make things like these ourselves."

"No reason we can't," Eight said. "It's just that it's not a very high military priority."

Vella frowned at her. "Are you mocking?"

Eight giggled. "Maybe a little. Have you forgiven me yet?"

Vella's head sank a bit between her shoulders. "I don't know. I don't think you're bad, but even if you're not a traitor you are a deserter - worse, a defector."

Eight sighed. "I guess I can't argue that. Still, I am loyal to the Octarian people, I just chose to be loyal in a different way by trying to find a way for us to live happily here."

"Under the inklings rule," Vella said pointedly.

Eight shrugged. "If we're happy, does it matter who or what we're ruled by? I know our leaders are trying to do what they think is best for our people, but we want more than what they offer, and more and more we're thinking that they're just plain wrong."

"All of you?" Vella looked around the large space.

They were at the Work Detail warehouse, the day after the rescue mission and ambush. All of the former prisoners were there, and would remain so while they recovered from their malnutrition and other ill effects of their incarceration. Pearl's doctor had examined them all and provided supplements for many of them, with instructions for Work Detail's medics to follow.

Those some medics were soon to become nursing apprentices, the first members of Work Detail to have a real career set out for themselves.

In addition, the two squads that had tried to ambush the agents were also there, as prisoners of war, and they were the reason some members of Work Detail in the room carried their octoshots. Three had asked they be kept there if possible since the NSS had no means to care for prisoners. Callie and Marie agreed to pay for it all.

"Pretty much." Eight shrugged. "Even before we got organized, we were just trying to have fun with fulfilling lives. Ultimately, isn't that what anyone wants?"

Vella stared down at the phone in her hand, frowning. "I don't know. I've never thought about it."

"None of us did, before the Inkantation." Eight tapped the phone and Vella nodded.

"That song. It… changes things."

"We're not sure how, but it does. Once we heard that song, we could never go back to being the people we were. And no, it's not mind control or something. We're still octolings; very distinct from inklings and everyone else. Trust me."

Vella sighed and set the phone down on the table before picking up her glass of ice tea. She took a careful sip and shuddered which made Eight smile. Her dear little sister wasn't used to the taste of sugar yet.

"You get used to it."

"So this is where you've been." A new voice said.

Eight turned and saw Pearl grabbing a chair and assuming a place at their little round table. She sat backwards on it, arms folded over the chairback with her chin resting on her arms.

Vella leaned away fearfully but Eight lifted a reassuring hand towards her.

"It's alright, Vella. This is Pearl Pygmy, my guardian. Remember? I've shown you her and Marina's music."

"Oh…" Vella resumed her natural seating position but couldn't look directly at Pearl. The inkling however kept looking at Vella with inquisitive eyes.

"Pearl," Eight said, switching to Inklish. "This is Vella, my younger blood sister."

Pearl stared at her, eyes widened slightly. "No kidding? Is she seriously your flesh and blood little sister?"

"I wouldn't lie to you about something like that."

"But you would about something else eh?" Pearl grinned and then looked back at Vella. "Nice to meet'cha Vella."

Vella shifted awkwardly. "Um, pleasant to meet you." Her inklish was a bit clumsy and her accent was thick, but it was intelligible.

Pearl chuckled. "Now that I really look at her, she does look a lot like you. Get your eyes from your mom?"

"I think so." Eight shrugged her tentacles.

"So," Pearl asked Vella. "What are you planning to do, kid?"

Vella finally looked at Pearl; although, not in the eye.

"W-what am I going to do?"

"Sure. Now that you're here, you wanna' do something, right?"

"Do something?" She looked at Eight worriedly and switched to Octese. "Is she an officer?"

Eight laughed. "No no, she's not trying to get you to clean the latrine or anything, Vella, she really wants to know what you want to do."

Vella frowned and stared down at the phone. "I want to make one of these," she held the phone up. "But better, and Octarian."

Eight looked at Pearl. "She wants to make an Octarian cell phone."

Pearl chuckled. "Wow, ambitious little tyke, isn't she?"

"Not little," Vella puffed in Inklish. "I third biggest in clutch, and Mother make many."

Pearl just kept smiling. "Whatever you say. In any case, I'm sure you can find plenty of ways to learn how to make cells. There are tons of phones tossed out every day. Bet if you could get your hands on some of those and take'em apart, you'd learn a lot. That's what Marina does."

Vella frowned and Eight translated for her. Her little sister looked appalled.

"That's so wasteful!"

Eight shrugged. "That's why the inklings need us around." She started to translate for Pearl but the inkling stopped her with an upheld palm.

"I've been around Marina long enough to know what that one means."

Eight giggled and took another sip of her ice tea.

"So, Eight," Pearl said. "Think Marina will finally let me in the loop with all this going on?"

Eight paused. "Well, you are here now. It is a start. It took Three and I a while to get passed that issue of trust and letting go, and what it was about was not even a secret between us. You will get there."

Pearl rolled her eyes. "Don't think that the student has become the master just yet, little Hachiko. I heard that you just kissed Three only yesterday."

Eight went rigid and her face flushed. "H-how did you hear about that?"

"Four texted me about it." She chuckled. "Congrats kid. You're over one of your romantic life's first real hurdles. Now the real pain begins. Kissing's easy; keeping up a relationship is tough."

"But we kissed on the lips," Eight protested. "You and Marina only kiss the head and cheeks."

Pearl shook her head. "We kiss on the lips a lot. Not all the time, but often enough."

Eight stared at her. "I have lived with you for months and never seen it."

Pearl's grin broadened and her eyes shone with naughty glee. "There are a lot of things we do that you've never seen."

Eight's face flushed darker and she took a quick sip from her glass to try and calm herself from this startling revelation.

At that point, Vella, who had been out of the conversation loop for a bit, leaned forward and asked in Inklish, "What is kissing?"

Pearl's laughter echoed throughout the entire hall.

The day after the events of the rescue and ambush were no laughing matter for the young members of the New Squidbeak Splatoon. After corralling all the ambushers and bringing them to headquarters, they had been forced to stand guard over them even though there were plenty of soldiers from Work Detail there.

Callie and Marie had purposely kept themselves too busy organizing things and figuring out what to do with the prisoners with Marina to talk with Captain Cuttlefish. The elderly inkling tried interrogating some of the captured octolings but none of them took him seriously, which hadn't helped his mood.

Once all the octolings had been taken away, Three and Four had been left to do a long patrol, leaving them utterly exhausted, and then had to suffer through a long rant from Captain Cuttlefish about who was in-charge of the NSS and the reasons one followed the chain of command.

After collapsing into their beds at home, Three and Four had to deal with the same thing the next day; albeit indirectly and from a different source.

It wasn't how Three wanted Four to be introduced to the particular mentor who, more than anyone, had turned her into the fighting machine the Octarians called _The Green Demon._ And yet, it somehow seemed appropriate.

The four agents had sat seiza-style for what felt like ages as Silvie Sansea ranted and lectured as fiercely as Three had ever heard her. The upside to the situation was that Three and Four were less the recipient of her scolding, and more like front-row spectators as she all but ignored the two of them and focused on Callie and Marie.

It had been something of a novelty, seeing the two older girls with their heads hung so low, looking like young children as they were slowly crushed under the weight of parental admonishment.

It was a cruel irony that despite all the worrying and efforts they had put in to prepare for the tribulations of entering official adulthood, since Callie and Marie were still 19, they fell under parental authority, which meant that Silvie was free to administer punishment. In this case, refresher training in the form of night-patrols. Callie and Marie hadn't stopped complaining about it since, even as they walked through a familiar, run-down warehouse district.

"We're never going to get any sleep," Marie groaned. "How are we supposed to find time with our schedules the way they are?"

"Since when did your mom do patrols?" Callie groused. "Refresher training under her for the next while is going to be black pits."

Three couldn't help but grin when she answered. "She did when she trained me. I thought you knew that."

"I thought she stayed back at the cabin and watched you through a monitor."

"Sometimes, but most of the time she was right there with me. I learned a lot. I actually really liked it."

"You liked it?" Callie was incredulous. "During our training, she was vicious. For stealth training, she'd whack me if I so much as crunched a pebble under me."

"And depending on how I did, I got no dessert," Marie huffed. "Why did you like it so much, Three, if it was no different than what we went through?"

Three pulsed grey. "Because… even though she was strict and could be harsh at times, she still did her best to teach me everything she knew, anything that would help me stay alive. She felt… well, like a mom."

The faces of the other three agents softened and she saw guilt rippled through their mantles, most strongly in Marie's.

"Sorry, Cortina," she said softly, spots of apology on her tentacles.

Three brightened the green of her mantle slightly, telling her it was alright. She took no offense.

"Right," Callie said. "Enough complaining. We've been and are going through the black pits for what we did so we'd better go through with it, all the way, and get the most we can from it."

The familiar building loomed ahead, now with the words "Work Detail" painted on a sign made from pieces of scrap metal hanging over the two main doors. They made their way around the side of the building to the loading dock where a handful of octolings sat playing cards and chatting lively. They saw the four approaching and snapped to attention, their eyes lingered on Three just a bit longer than the rest as they neared.

Three certainly stood out in her guard's uniform, a black set of so-called combat pants, a black jacket and a black polo shirt underneath. Although not officially Callie and Marie's bodyguard yet, both stars felt it was important for people to start recognizing her as such, especially as more octolings started coming to the city.

One of the octolings opened the door for them and Callie gave a chirpy "thank you" before going inside. Three looked into the eyes of the four octolings as she passed, nodding to them out of respect, and then followed her two charges inside, with Four bringing up the rear.

Three heard the sound of Off the Hook's _Ebb & Flo_ from the speakers and octolings of nearly every colour were about. Even some she recognized as being among the POWs they had taken, now wore their natural tentacle colours instead of the standard military purple.

Conversation quickly died as everyone noticed the new presences in the room. They all hushed and many of the Work Detail members stood to their feet. The music fell in volume to a mere whisper.

Callie looked around the silent room and then laughed. "Gee, didn't mean to spoil the party. What? Are we mom and dad to you now?"

Marie sighed. "Callie, that joke isn't going to work with them."

Callie pulsed blue. "Whatever, let's just keep the party going. Come on, people, don't we have something to celebrate? Kick it up!"

The music came back on, now twice as loud as before. Callie ran ahead, grabbing one stunned and bewildered Octoling by the hand, dragging her to the middle of the room before starting to dance with her. Four laughed, as did many of the octolings. Marie shook her head but smiled.

"Never changes," the other squid sister murmured. "Keep an eye on her, Three. I'm going to find Marina."

"Yes, ma'am."

Three remained in place, hands behind her back. She was able to get a good view of the impromptu dance floor as a new song started and Callie swayed her hips in ways that would turn most inkyar into puddles.

Four let out a long whistle, her face a bit flushed and her mantle showing vibrant blues and deep pinks. Three had to consciously subdue the feeling threatening to show in her own mantle, otherwise she would have worn many of the same colours as her little sister.

"Can Marie do that?" Four asked softly.

"Yes," Three answered plainly. "She did it in _The Temptress._"

"I haven't seen that," Four admitted. "I'm still too young for that movie."

"I know. I saw it just before I turned sixteen." She grinned at Four and gave her a nudge. "Maybe I'll bring over a copy sometime. I won't tell if you won't."

Four blushed and smiled appreciatively, the pink in her mantle turning just a bit rosier. "I think I'll go find Eight, see how she's doing."

"Let me know if you find her," Three said. "And tell her I'm… working."

"Will do." She opened her mouth again, as if to say something further, then closed it and flashed blue before walking off.

Three let it pass and returned her focus to Callie as she kept trading one dance partner for another, keeping the party going all while burning away her earlier frustration. Three hoped it might win them a few new fans while they were here.

Given how flushed Vella was, Eight was glad her eyes had been focused more on Three in her very nice uniform than on the dance floor. Even Pearl had let out a loud whistle at whatever they had seen Callie do.

"That girl can move," she whispered. "If there were any guys here they'd be jelly right now."

Eight gave her back-right tentacle a self-conscious tug. It had swelled, albeit only slightly, as she focused on Three. Had she been looking where everyone else had been… she didn't dare think about it.

"Wh-who is that?" Vella asked. She sounded shaken.

"That's Callie," Pearl answered. "One of the Squid Sisters."

"She and Marie," Eight gestured to the grey inkling now speaking to Marina, "sing the Inkantation."

"Oh, the song." Vella stared back down at the phone and one of her tentacles, very much like Eight's, stroked her chin. Then she looked back at Callie, the tips of her tentacles curling, then she looked away again.

"What's wrong?" Eight asked.

"She makes me feel… strange."

Eight smiled and translated for Pearl, who chuckled.

"Callie and Marie have a habit of doing that. Besides, females are designed to find other females attractive. How else would you size up the competition?" Eight shrugged as Vella stared at her, confused.

Eight took another sip of her drink and saw Four approaching them. Eight waved and Four waved back. Vella looked almost ready to dive under the table when she spotted her.

As she got close, Four took both of Pearl's hands in hers and gently pressed their foreheads together. A warm wave of pink moved across their mantles, almost synchronized, and then the two parted and Four sat in the chair on the opposite side of the table.

"How's the leg, Eight?" Four asked.

"I think it is starting to bind, now." Eight looked her up and down. "You seem alright. Your text earlier sounded as if you had been in a fight."

Four displayed slightly washed out violet. "Sorry, can't really talk about it. I'd get in serious trouble if I did and I've had enough trouble for a while."

She glanced at the other side of the table and Vella flinched as Four's bright yellow eyes locked onto her. "Um… Vella, right?"

Vella eyed Four with suspicion and leaned away from her. Four flashed blue and then grey, which made Vella flinch.

"How is Three?" Eight asked, trying to switch Four's focus to give Vella's poor hearts a rest.

"She wanted me to tell you that she's working. Probably so you know why she's there instead of here, kissing your leg to make it better." She and Pearl shared insufferably big grins and Eight flushed darkly.

"Will this teasing never stop? I am starting to understand a lot of Three's past behavior."

"It's because we love you," Four said. "Any idea how long you'll be in that cast?"

"The doctor said I should be able to walk unaided in about three weeks. Another two for it to be completely healed.

Four winced. "Ouch, that's rough. Makes me glad we're cephalopods; otherwise we'd take ages to heal."

"One of the god's gifts I'm most thankful for," Pearl said, leaning forward. "So, I know Callie and Marie sponsored whatever this is, but what are you doing here?"

"Just keeping an eye on things. I'm mostly backup for Three though. With so many POWs around, we didn't want to take any chances."

Vella huffed. "You are wise not to take us lightly."

"Thanks." Four kept grinning and Vella stared at her as if she'd said a joke that had gone completely over the inkling's head.

Pearl stood up and adjusted her chair the right way around then leaned forward across the table, bringing her voice down just a bit.

"Hey Four, maybe _you _can tell me what happened to the slimy _groshgott_ that broke Eight's leg. Marina wouldn't tell me anything and Eight said she didn't see." She crossed her arms and Eight sank a little in her seat.

Four flashed grey. "Well, Marina wasn't actually there when it happened and given Eight's situation, I'm not surprised she didn't see anything."

Four took out her phone. "Fortunately, I took a picture. Three left a pretty good impression on him." She showed it to Pearl who leaned in close to see.

"_That's_ DJ Octavio?" She stared at Eight, baffled. "Is that what your males look like?"

"N-no," Eight said, putting her hands up. She was still surprised that Four had actually shown Pearl the picture. "Octavio is rumored to have had genetic experiments conducted on himself that gave him a strong resistance to ink but he can no longer transform into an octoling form, and it made him unusually large. It nearly killed him."

"The example that all males aspire to follow," Vella said, arms crossed. But that wasn't a topic Eight wanted to discuss. Fortunately, Pearl and Four didn't seem inclined to do so either.

Four pointed to the top of Octavio's head and Pearl laughed. "I see what you mean. Three really does leave quite an impression.

Eight frowned and Four showed her the picture. It took her nearly a full second to see the perfectly preserved shoeprints in Octavio's flesh, badly discoloured and ugly, but still there.

She couldn't help but smile. "Well, that did save my life."

"And now, it looks like your relationship actually has a future," Pearl said, smiling. "Don't waste it."

"I won't," Eight assured her. "I'll make sure."

Three stayed a short distance behind Callie as she made her rounds seeing each of the octolings they had liberated, her former friends, the ones who had taken care of her when she herself had been a prisoner. Without the urgency they had during the mission or the chaos after it had ended, they were finally able to have a proper reunion.

To Three's eyes, they all looked healthier now than they had before. Their skin no longer had the deathly pallor of before, and their tentacles no longer as shriveled. The single elite octoling among them seemed to have recovered best, enough that she was able to give Callie a firm hug in return.

Three risked a glance to her left. Eight was still sitting at her table with Pearl, Four, and another octoling. She seemed cheerful enough. She certainly knew that Eight wouldn't let a broken leg keep her miserable, but still, it was good to see her smiling.

Three felt someone approach from behind. Without even turning she knew it was Marie.

"I see the reunion's going well," Marie said as she stood next to her.

Three flashed green. "Did Marina tell you anything?"

"She seems to agree with our idea. It'll make a real difference. It's not like we can keep them here anyway and what we've been doing so far hasn't been working. We need to try something different." She sighed. "Then, maybe I won't have to listen to Mother complaining about Gramps not retiring anymore."

"Wishful thinking," Three said. "Gramps said he'll never retire as long as Octavio's around."

Blotches of maroon and burgundy appeared in Marie's mantle. "Well, we can at least try dislodging a few pebbles to see if it starts a landslide. So, once Callie's done with her little reunion, have her come to the back room, you know, the one where you almost died."

Three's mantle darkened then flashed a dark grey. "I remember. I'm over it."

"Good. After that, we'll need you to bring Eight. I'd like to make sure there are no hard feelings between her and the POWs. That could be bad in the future."

"Understood." Three looked at Callie as she started pulling her old octoling friends into group hugs, and then she pulsed blue. "But this reunion is going to go on for a while before I can pull her away."

Marie's mantle turned a solid blue but then warm spots of pink appeared., and she smiled a little. "Yeah, I know. Insufferable as she is, I wouldn't change a thing about her."

Three smiled a little too. "I think Callie said the same thing about you."

Eight was trying to show Vella how to play one of her phone's game apps when Three arrived. She felt a slight heat rise to her face and couldn't help but smile. Vella backed away and hid behind her. Eight gave her a reassuring pat with one of her tentacles.

Three leaned forward and Eight felt her hearts beat faster.

"We need you in the back room," she said. "They've decided what to do with the POWs and it's important you be there."

Eight grimaced, imagining facing the officer she had shot at the start of the fight. She would be there. "Will I not cause problems?"

"Maybe." Three offered her hand. "But better to try and clear things up now than later. Bad blood is what's kept this whole war going."

Eight accepted Three's hand and carefully stood up, leaning heavily on her good leg. Pearl handed her the crutch and she tucked it under her arm. She still wasn't used to walking with it.

"I suppose you are right."

"Where are you going?" Vella asked worriedly.

"Just to clear things up with your commanding officer, I imagine." Eight gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I'll be back. In the meantime, I'm sure Pearl and Four can teach you how to play the game."

Vella's tentacles curled upward. She still didn't trust the inklings.

"If they wanted you dead, Vella, you would be. Just relax. Pearl's a civilian and Four is a fellow soldier."

"From the other side," Vella pointed out.

"For now. But not forever. Don't worry. I'll be back soon enough."

She nodded to Three and the two of them headed towards the back of the building, into an all too familiar hallway to an all too familiar room.

"I wonder if they're having it in this room on purpose to try and make me feel uncomfortable," Three said as they entered the corridor.

"I am sure it is only a matter of practicality," Eight assured her. Pettiness is not an Octarian virtue." She grinned then added, "Besides, who would want to make you angry? The last one that did got two very obvious footprints on his head."

Three grinned back. "Well he deserved it. That counts as me beating him twice."

Halfway down the corridor, Eight gently put an arm in front of Three and they stopped. Three looked at her, brows furrowed with concern.

"I just wanted to talk for a moment," Eight said. "We have not been able to really talk since before yesterday."

Three clasped her hand behind her back and looked straight ahead. "I'm not mad at you or anything. I was just… dealing with a lot of stuff at the time."

"I know. I am sorry I did not think about that when I… when I kissed you." Her face warmed and she could see Three's mantle flickering as it warmed with pink blotches over the green.

"You nearly died," Three said. "It makes sense you would be emotional." She bit her bottom lip and Eight through she saw her quiver. "I was almost too late. I almost lost you."

Eight gave her a small smile and gently grasped her arm. "But you weren't. You were there for me, in the end, and I was the one who got myself in that situation."

"Yes." Three's mantle flared crimson and she pointed a stern finger right in front of Eight's face. "Don't _ever_ do that again."

Eight stared at the finger, making her look cross-eyed, and then looked at Three's hard expression and smiled as her chest swelled.

"As you wish."

"I almost lost you," Three repeated, her hard voice a little shaky. "Don't do that to me again."

Eight grasped her hand and pressed her cheek to the back of it, one of her tentacles wrapping around the hand to hold it in place.

Nothing more needed to be said. The intentions and feelings of the other were clear, their souls in harmony. It felt even more wonderful than Eight imagined.

Avrika purposefully ignored Octavio as he yelled at them while they passed. Even within the confines of the glass globe he was an intimidating presence.

"Shut up!" Agent 4 yelled at him, "or I'll put footprints on the other side of your head."

Avrika and her troops marched in-line with the two agents on either side, both carrying weapons. Even if they were merely a precautionary measure, none of them had any doubt they would use them without hesitation.

As they reached the edge of the square concrete pad on which the inkling's headquarters stood, they stopped. Beyond was the escarpment and then the territory belonging to the domes, filled with Octarians struggling just to live from one day to the next. But it didn't have to be that way, she had seen first-hand how Octarians might live.

She turned to the right and the octolings behind her stood awkwardly. They all had mixed feelings about what they had done, what they had seen, and what they were about to do.

Avrika steadied herself and shouted out, "Right-turn!" By reflex, all the octolings straightened and turned as one, lifting their left foot and then stomping it down at the end of the turn.

Agent 1 and 2 emerged from the small wooden headquarters building, each carrying a large box. Octoshot barrels stuck out of them.

"Your weapons and tanks," Agent 1 explained as they set the boxes down in front of them. "You will each come one at a time to retrieve your weapon and tank. Do _not_ attempt to load your tank or weapon at any time or it will be considered an act of aggression." She didn't need to explain the consequences of that.

Avrika stood in front of the octoling formation. "By numbers, go." The first octoling on the right moved, going to retrieve her gear. Avrika glanced back towards the headquarters building as Vella emerged, carrying another box and looking downtrodden. Avrika felt for her, but this was for the best.

Once all the weapons and tanks had been recovered, Vella handed out the communicators to everyone, each soldier in turn strapping it back onto their tentacle. She came to Avrika last, her eyes big and infantlike, almost pleading as she looked up. It nearly broke Avrika's soul.

She accepted the communicator and placed a hand on Vella's head. "You aren't deserting your duty, Vella," she whispered. "It has only changed form. The skills you will learn and the knowledge you will gain here will aid our people one day. We're going to need that."

Vella pouted and her gaze fell. "I just don't want to leave you."

Avrika gritted her beak, trying to keep back her own tears from spilling. Vella's youth made her maternal instincts cry out, refusing to be ignored. She had to keep herself under control.

"I know the unfamiliar can be frightening and leaving the place you want to be, where you think you should be, feels bad. I didn't want to leave my children, but the army -our people, needed me somewhere else. I may not be with my children, I may not ever see them again, but at least I know that I am making a difference and maybe, I can give them a better future than what I had. If I can do that, then I can be satisfied."

She reached down and began curling the tip of one of Vella's tentacles around her finger. "We need you to do the same. Try to make a future for us. And don't worry, you at least have a sister here to watch over you."

"She's holding me hostage," Vella sniffled.

"Only technically. I know it doesn't sound good but I hope you'll come to understand eventually." She gave Vella a pat on the cheek. "You're dismissed, trooper. Make your mother as proud as you've made me."

Vella sniffled again and then stood up straight, eyes watery but determined. "I'll never forget you, honored mother." She bowed and then left, stiff and formal, hands clenched into irontight fists at her sides. Vella felt as though it was one of her own children walking away and it hurt, but she also felt proud.

"We'll watch over her," Agent 1 said softly. "Don't worry."

"I'm not worried," Avrika said, and slipped her communicator back onto her tentacle. "If there's nothing else…"

"No, you're free to go. Please try to keep out of trouble."

_Please don't give us a reason to shoot you someday._ Avrika translated in her head.

She turned to the right and addressed her splatoon, minus one. "Left-turn. By the left, quick, march!" With that, they left Inkopolis and a portion of their past behind. Avrika could only hope that they would be able to come again, without having to be shot at or captured. In the future.

**Author's Notes:**

Welp, the main issues are over and we're starting to wrap up. I'm currently writing a sequel to this story that will focus on the consequences of the agent's actions in this one as well as wrapping up a few loose ends. So there are a lot of things happening in the background of this chapter, most of which won't be properly explored until the epilogue, but I'm sure some of you can make some reasonable guesses. This chapter also softly introduces Silvie Sansea, Marie's mother. She was originally going to be introduced in a prequel story but that's something I haven't been able to make work so I'm focusing on sequels for the moment. She does have a bit of a backstory to explain why she was able to train Three to be as deadly and dangerous as she is and it might not be what you think it is.


	22. Leaving the Nest

Three felt odd as she stared into the big empty room, the room that had been hers almost since hatching, the room that had been her sanctuary for sixteen years. Off to the side was the only item left, her bed, the bed her mother used to tuck her into, read her a story, sing her to sleep.

If Three was honest with herself, she didn't want to leave it, didn't want to step out of her comfort zone, this familiar place, into a new phase of life, didn't want to grow up. She wanted to be that little girl again, sit in her mother's lap, wrestle with her dad, bake cookies with her iya. She wanted to do it all over again. Even if she couldn't change the past, she wanted to go back and cherish every moment.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around. Her father was there, smiling kindly at her. "The van just left. Time to go, sweetie."

Three bit her lip, trying to keep her emotions under control, but she couldn't prevent the sad blues filling her mantle. She hugged him tightly, desperately. She was scared.

"You'll be just fine," he whispered, hugging her back. "You were right, you need this."

A brief flicker of green through her otherwise blue mantle was her silent response. Gradually, it transitioned back to her natural green, a match for his, and then she stood up straight. It was time to go.

Her father handed her the tattered old backpack she had been using since she turned fourteen. She smiled a little when she spotted the dark brown stain on one of the straps, a reminder of the first time she had gone out hiking with Callie and Marie and they started peppering each other with berries.

She looped it around her shoulders and gave her father a firm nod before they went together down the stairs.

Her iya was waiting for them by the back door, holding her purse tightly in her hands. The bulge in her middle showed clearly through her otherwise loose shirt. She looked like she had been crying a little.

"All ready to go?" She asked in a brave voice. Three flashed green and they departed the house.

"I have to drive," Three said as they headed to the back lane. "I know the way."

Her father sighed and made a show of reluctantly handing her the keys. "Just had to borrow my car one more time, eh?"

Three smiled as she accepted the keyes. "Just think of it as one more memory, Dad."

Three carefully placed her bag into the footwell of the back seat and got into the driver's position. This would be a new thing for her, taking her parents to Callie and Marie's house, a place she had been keeping secret for two years.

It was just after ten in the morning on a Saturday. Rush hour traffic would be gone but a lot of people would be going shopping around now. Three decided to cut through downtown, which had less traffic.

The whole way, her parents peppered her with questions like how often she had been to Callie and Marie's house, if she had spent any nights there, and what kinds of things they would do for fun. About halfway there, her mother started going into a lecture about how girls behave during second puberty and warned Three to watch herself around the two, emphasizing that whatever she learned in school didn't do it justice.

The lecture continued until they finally pulled up to the gate leading into Calamari Castle.

"Moving in at last eh?" The guard asked as he scanned Three's pass then handed her the binder.

"Yeah, I guess it was going to happen eventually." She handed the binder to her father and told both her parents to sign in. A few more quick words with the guard and then she handed the binder back. He gave it a quick scan, smiled and then gave her a two-fingered salute before going back to the guardhouse, signaling the other guard inside to open the gate.

"He seems nice," her iya said as they drove through, a suggestive tone in her voice.

"He is." Three made herself sound as flat and uninterested as possible.

Less than a minute later, Callie and Marie's bungalow came into view. The moving van was parked on the driveway and the three movers were hustling boxes through the front door. They looked excited.

Three parked the car at the curb and then retrieved her bag from the backseat while her father helped her iya out of the car.

Aside from the movers, Calamari Castle was fairly peaceful today. The sun was shining, a few lawn sprinklers were running and the sound of lawn mowers could be heard from nearby streets. The breeze, though cool, was gentle, and Three closed her eyes to feel it gently washing over her face.

It had been two weeks since the rescue operation, just a little over two-weeks since she had told her parents about Callie and Marie. They still didn't know they were _anu eelae_, but that could come later.

"Awfully normal looking neighbourhood for being one full of rich people," her father commented.

"But the houses have so much more square footage than normal," her iya said.

Three opened her eyes and moved alongside her parents, walking them to the house.

"It also has an indoor pool," Three said. "It's a great place to relax in. Maybe you can use it a couple of times before you have your eggs, iya."

She smiled. "Thank you for the thought, honey, but I'll be spending at least a month in a tank with those eggs and whatever comes out of them. I'm not really in any hurry to go swimming."

They gently moved past the movers and entered the familiar bungalow. The boxes were placed in a neat pile just to the right of the entrance. Callie and Marie were already in the process of moving the boxes from the entranceway to the former guest bedroom that was now her bedroom.

Three removed her shoes and gestured her parents to a nearby couch. One of the movers carried in a box and she accepted it from him, carrying it to the bedroom. She passed Callie coming back the other way and received a pat on the head from the older girl. Marie was still inside the room, just putting a box down. She gave her a smile and displayed a welcoming green in her mantle which Three returned. Yes, this was her home now, her new sanctuary for the foreseeable future.

Three didn't have many possessions so the movers were quickly done unloading and left. Three, her father, and the Squid Sisters then went about moving the rest of the boxes into the bedroom and then Callie offered to make some tea while Marie showed her parents around the house.

While that happened, Three went to her new bedroom and unzipped her backpack. Inside were some of her more delicate and precious belongings. A small box containing jewelry she almost never wore, a stuffed toy she had since she was a toddler, and various similar items. She reached inside and pulled out a thin rectangular object wrapped in protective cloth, the most priceless thing she had.

She removed the cloth to reveal her mother's smiling face and gently brushed her fingers over the protective glass. "Guess I finally moved out, Mama," she whispered. "At least I didn't have to run away from home like you did. I bet that makes you happy."

She pressed the picture frame to her forehead and then placed the picture carefully on the night table next to the bed. She leaned her bag against the wall and glanced around the room again, noting, not for the first time, how much larger it was than her old one. Having all her stuff there, even still in boxes, seemed to drive that point home.

Callie's call came from the kitchen just as she left the room. "Three, tea's ready."

Everyone else was already back in the living room. Her parents sat on the couch chatting lightly with Marie while Callie poured the tea.

There was something so alleviating about seeing the four of them interacting together, people from two parts of her life she thought would always have to be separate from each other. True, there were some secrets that would probably never be shared between the two, but she could live with that. At least her parents hadn't asked why everyone called her "Three."

She was just about to sit down when the doorbell rang. She raised an eyebrow towards Callie and Marie, mantle yellow but they flashed blue and Marie displayed green with spots of red, telling her to investigate.

Three turned and headed to the front door.

_This is my job now. I'm a bodyguard. This is what I need to do._

Three looked through the peephole in the door and was surprised at who she saw on the other side.

She pulled open the door and Pearl burst inside.

"Hey everybody! The party's here!"

Heads snapped up from the living room. Marie's mantle turned dark blue with splotches of brown while Callie laughed and got up to greet their guests as they came in, mantle a warm yellow.

Marina came next, smiling apologetically for Pearl's boisterous behavior even as the diminutive inkling clasped hands with Callie. Eight emerged slowly, left hand resting on a cane. She smiled at Three and Three smiled back.

"Pearl insisted," she whispered.

"I figured. Gotten used to the cane yet?"

Eight shrugged and spun the hooked stick in place. "I am getting used to it, but I will be glad when I no longer need it. It makes it difficult to perform my maid duties."

Three smiled and reached out to gently caress one of her tentacles. It wasn't a conscious thing, her hand just did it naturally. More and more she caught herself doing these things around Eight over the past two weeks.

"Want to sit down?"

"No," Eight sighed. "But I have been walking a lot today so I do need to rest my leg."

Three offered her hand and Eight accepted it, allowing herself to be assisted to one of the couches. It was fortunate that the house had been designed with the intent of entertaining numerous guests. A typical home's living room would not have been able to seat so many so comfortably.

She managed to avoid flinching when her iya looked in her direction. There was a pause and then a knowing smile on her lips. Three couldn't stop the heat from rising to her cheeks or the embarrassed pink that ripped through her mantle.

They sat down on the last empty couch, Eight favouring her right leg. Even then and despite her embarrassment, Three didn't let go of her hand.

Callie and Marie left the room to fetch their new guests some cups and to brew some more tea. Pearl and Marina also became conspicuously silent.

Three groaned inwardly, knowing what she was expected to do. She didn't dare look directly in Pearl's direction, she could practically hear the older girl grinning.

She looked directly across the sitting area to her parents. Her iya was calmly sipping tea while her father looked a bit puzzled and surprised at all the celebrities his wallflower daughter seemed to know.

Three flashed orange to get his attention and gave Eight's hand a light squeeze. Eight looked at her with an expression asking what was wrong. Three took a deep breath and summoned every ounce of courage she could muster, imagining Callie and Marie listening and waiting from the kitchen.

_Just let it all out at once and get it over with._

"Iya, Dad, this is Hachiko, my girlfriend."

She felt Eight suddenly tense up. Only then did Three realize that Eight probably had no idea what her parents looked like and only now understood just who these other people were.

Three kept her head down but glanced up to the couch across the room, doing her best to ignore the rising anxiety inside her.

Her father looked shocked, as if he'd suddenly been convinced the world was flat. Her iya, by contrast, smiled broadly and switched her gaze to Eight.

"Nice to meet you, Hachiko. I'm Purdie Scarletteri, Cortina's iya. The slack jawed one next to me is my husband, Dekin; her father."

Eight's grip on Three's hand tightened considerably and she bowed her head abruptly.

"I-i-it is an honor to meet you. I am Hachiko Brath Stonefeller Connko Turfer. I have the pleasure of courting your daughter."

Her iya chuckled lightly. "My, you are a polite young lady aren't you?"

Pearl groaned. "Is everyone going to say that?" Marina laughed while Eight blushed at the praise and fidgeted in her seat.

Three regarded her father, who still hadn't said anything. Her iya gave him a shake and he snapped out of his stunned silence.

"Uh, nice to meet you, I'm Dekin."

Three huffed. "It isn't _that_ surprising is it, Dad?"

"Uh.. no, of course not, sweetheart, it's just… unexpected. You never even told us you were dating."

"Because I wasn't. We just started."

Her iya laughed. "Well, you never expressed interest in the idea of romance until very recently, given how shy you've always been. We certainly wouldn't have expected you to be dating an octoling."

Three frowned, and something pulled at her stomach. "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not. It's just surprisingly adventurous of you. You're normally a very cautious girl who tends to dip her toe into things for ages before putting a whole foot in."

Callie's laugh was heard and she reentered the living room with a fresh pot of tea.

"Yeah, she's not exactly the type to jump in headfirst. Still, she has a strong sense of righteousness, and nobody can stop her when she feels strongly about something."

"So I've noticed."

Marie arrived with more cups and saucers, and Callie began to pour.

"Just means it'll make the relationship more interesting," Pearl said. "Makes it more unique and special too, I guess."

"I suppose."

Three eyed her iya carefully, noticing her brown mantle turn a shade lighter with an underlying layer of yellow. Then her iya asked, "Are you speaking from experience?"

Pearl blanched and Three had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Marina's face darkened significantly and averted her gaze, covering her cheeks with her hands.

"I noticed the ring," Her iya went on. "It's quite pretty."

Pearl and Marina both flinched and Three saw Marina gently grasp a small ring on her left hand with a large red gemstone in the centre, twisting it slightly on her hand.

"Iya," Three warned. "Take it easy."

"Oh, I'm just complimenting her, dear. People should feel comfortable about their relationships. Besides, she isn't the first girl to wear a promise ring."

Pearl frowned, her wits somewhat recollected. "How did you know it was a promise ring?"

A shrug. "Instinct, I suppose."

Callie giggled and sat on one of the chairs. "Makes me glad I'm single." Marie flashed green in agreement.

"Just wait till you two start dating," Pearl said. "I'm gonna' tease you mercilessly!"

"Oh?" Marie asked, amusement rippling in her mantle. "It's war, is it?"

"Scared?"

"Not really?"

Three leaned back in her seat, sighing. Eight looked at her and smiled. "This is the family we chose."

"Yeah, I know," Three whispered back. "Regrets now?"

"Of course not." She leaned back alongside her and gave her hand a squeeze. "After what we went through to get here, this is nothing. My love for you is much stronger than that."

Three flushed and slowly squeezed her hand right back. "What did I do to deserve you?"

Eight giggled. "It is not about deserving. I love you. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

"I don't know," Three admitted. "Maybe it's just my anxiety coming back. I just know that I'm glad you love me and I don't want to be without you." She frowned. "You know I'm not good with words."

Eight leaned her head on her shoulder and sighed contentedly. "You do not have to be. Your actions have always been more than enough for me."

Three felt an odd pressure seem to come off of her chest and she found herself relaxing as Eight leaned against her. She didn't know how this relationship would go but for now, she decided to simply enjoy having someone she cared about so much with her. So, she leaned her head on Eight's and the two of them simply witnessed another way people showed their love, as their families bickered and teased.

**Author's Notes:**

Well, that's it for the story proper. There will still be an epilogue to read that will allude to the sequel so make sure to keep an eye out for that.

I hope this story is more satisfying than the last one was with the promise of the story fulfilled in a likeable way. I might not have managed quite the same with Pearl and Marina's relationship but at least there are possibilities for the future.

The sequel will be a bit different from this story but I hope you'll still enjoy it.

Remember, there's still the epilogue left.


	23. Epilogue: In Shadows Tall

Sevram Sabbart tried not to wince as the support beams above him groaned. They always did that but he had seen far too many people die from collapsing structures to simply ignore it. A lifetime under the domes had given him a painful awareness of such things.

"Do not fear, My Lord, I'll protect you," came a coy voice to his right and above him.

"Oh, I'm sure you will do your best, but even you might struggle to protect me from tons of steel and concrete falling on our heads. I appreciate the thought though."

He looked up at his companion, an octoling female of only average height but he was still only as tall as her hip, and the ends of her yellow tentacles swayed at his eye level. With her curvaceous figure, pretty face and bewitching eyes, Dalia was a wonderful thing to look at, which was, of course, the idea. A takevir of his station required a takenam of her outstanding physical qualities.

Their destination came into view ahead of them, a rarely used administration building. It's walls were cracked and a small corner of the building had collapsed, but the rest of it was perfectly sound, at least as far as buildings in the domes went. That fact was enough to make one cry.

Dalia proceeded Sevram inside and signaled when it was clear. The interior of the building looked much better than the exterior. Efforts of the karth labour brigades kept even hardly used buildings like this fairly clean and kept.

After navigating a few corners, they came upon a pair of large doors at the end of a long corridor. Sevram forced himself not to wince when he saw another octoling female standing beside said doors, one hand on the ink pistol attached to her hip. Someone had gotten to the meeting place ahead of him.

As they neared, the two females regarded each other, with Dalia smiling while the other takenam all but glared at her. Sevram noted that she was quite pretty, but importantly, not as good looking as Dalia. He gave her a small smile and a nod as he passed through the doors. She returned the nod but only glanced at him, her eyes locking back onto Dalia with a cynical gaze as the latter took position on the other side of the door.

The room inside was dimly lit, a few old lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling by their wires. Inside was a single, large, patchwork metal table in a squashed diamond shape, surrounded by the most heterogeneous assortment of chairs one could imagine, made from all manner of different materials.

Halfway down one end of the table, next to one of the points, another takevir sat with his arms in his lap and looking just a bit smug.

Aaran Haruul, Lord of Health and Welfare, had been a friend since childhood and a friendly rival since adulthood. He stood just a bit taller than Sevram, near the upper end of height for most takevir, but he still wouldn't come up to Dalia's chest.

Sevram shook his head and couldn't help but smile. "Did you arrive an hour ago just so you could say you were here first?"

The other laughed. "Please, you know none of us have time for such petty games. As it happens, I've only been here for a few minutes. It was as much a surprise to me as I'm sure it was for you. Honestly, it's a bit unsettling being here with no one else. I don't know how or why you do it."

"Same reason you did: to get the best chair." In spite of that claim, Sevram adopted the seat right next to Aaran, one whose seat was a patchwork of thin metal plates riveted together.

"It's unusual for you to call a meeting though. Usually I'm the one taking that initiative."

"You're not the only one with reliable informants." Aaran's smug grin grew just a bit broader. "But trust me, it's something worth sharing. I imagine you and the others will have some very tasty information as well."

Sevram frowned. It was true, he did have some quite valuable, even disturbing, information to share with the group, but did Aaran know what he knew or did what he know imply that everyone else knew something?

The doors opened and in stepped High Mother Morilla Voda, representative of the mothers and nurses from the breeding domes.

Sevram and Aaran both stood but she waved them back down and headed for a seat near the far end of the table. Despite pushing eighty, she moved with the vitality of someone half her age.

No sooner did she sat down that the door opened yet again, revealing Lord of Agriculture, Villam Kolia, and, to everyone's surprise, Lord of Science and Research, Narven Ida.

"Lord Ida," Sevram greeted. "I must admit this is a bit of a surprise."

"I invited him," Kolia answered quickly. "I know he hasn't been in the _Ravalda _very long but he has plenty of grievances I think should be heard prior to the next official session."

Aaran shrugged his tentacles. "Well, it's not that he's unwelcome, just that we try to give new Lords of the Imperium a chance to settle into their jobs first."

"I appreciate your concern," Ida said as he sat across the table from him and Aaran, "however, it's been clear to me that there will be no 'settling' into this mess."

"A mess is a very good way of putting it," Voda groused. "And this war isn't making things any cleaner."

"Ah, the war," Aaran nodded slowly. "Well, on that front, I may have some good news, but I suppose it depends how you look at it. I'll explain once everyone arrives."

They didn't have long to wait as the Lady of Law, Lord of Trade, and Lord of Infrastructure all arrived in short order. None of them looked particularly happy, so Aaron's confident smile stood out. Sevram hoped that was a good sign. They could use some good news for once, to go along with all the bad that was no doubt also going to be voiced at this meeting.

"Are we all here?" Sevram asked. Subtle nods all around. "Very well. Since Lord Haruul called this meeting, I think it's only fair he chair it."

"Thank you, Lord Sabbart." Aaran leaned forward and placed both palms on the table. "Lords and Ladies, I have it, from an _extremely_ reliable source, that, just the other day, an Octarian Army officer, who had been an inkling prisoner of war, was released, along with her entire unit, carrying a message from Inkopolos asking to reopen diplomatic relations."

Eyes widened and bodies stiffened around the table. There hadn't been any nonmilitary contact with Inkopolis since the last war ended a century ago. With this new war waging for over two years, why were they asking for diplomatic talks now? Unless...

Sevram put aside his thoughts as Aaran handed him a tablet. On the screen was an image of a paper document written in formal Octese. As Lord of Education, Sevram marveled at the beautiful shape and form of the letters. Even with the rather poor quality of the image, it was all written so well that reading it wasn't difficult.

"Whoever wrote this is very fluent in Octese and at a very high level. There are words here I haven't seen in years. In fact, I haven't seen this quality of writing or script except in old books."

He handed the tablet to his right where Juli Protor, Lady of Law, sat, and she examined the image with analytical eyes. He could tell from the subtle changes in expression that she concurred with his analysis and appreciated the skill with which the document had been crafted.

"Whoever wrote this obviously went to a great deal of effort, but I detect an undertone of caution and that this process should be subtle. I get the distinct impression that this is being done without the knowledge of the Inkopolis government at large."

"But why hasn't the army told us about this?" Voda demanded. "Isn't this excellent news? If Inkopolis wants to negotiate, doesn't that mean we're winning the war, or at least costing them so much they want it to end?"

"I don't know," Aaron admitted. "However, my sources have said that the officer in question, along with every octoling released with her, has been placed under arrest and is being ground down by Army Intelligence for every scrap of detail. I'm afraid I have no idea where the original document is."

"Another army coverup?" Branz Bodova, Lord of Infrastructure, crossed his arms and scowled. "Why am I not surprised? They've been pretty vague about how the war's been going. All we know is that they've been taking all the spare resources, again, and a lot of casualties have been taken."

"Hardly surprising when they were the ones who attacked us first," Protor pointed out.

"I've been wondering about that claim." The coming argument quickly faded away as Iida folded his hands on the table, his face deadly serious.

"We were in the last stages of the _flooder _development program when the army suddenly provided us with a mini zapfish of all things, along with an adapter to plug it into the power grid. With all that spare power, the development part of the project was completed in record time. Of course, finding the resources for manufacturing them was another matter.

"I find it rather strange that the army gave us a zapfish, from who knows where, and an adapter with which to plug it into our system before we even heard of any Inkling attacks. I later found out that we had been among the first to receive a zapfish, with only the manufacturing sectors getting them before us. I was working at one of the inner research stations at the time, so I only heard second-hand, but when the Inklings attacked the flooder research station, the army hurriedly evacuated everyone from the station just before the attack came, mumbling something about a demon."

"A demon?" Sevram arched an eyebrow. "Do the inklings possess some kind of great weapon that would make our soldiers so fearful?"

"I'm certain if they did, the army would have mentioned it."

"They would have claimed fighting hundreds of them in defense of the homeland," Voda scoffed. "Even if there was just one or even one at all."

"Wait a moment," Protor raised her hand in a holding gesture. "Lord Iida, are you saying that Lord Octavio and the army lied and we were actually the ones who began the war?"

"It certainly seems that way," Iida said, his brows furrowing. "The pattern simply doesn't fit. I can't imagine the inklings attacking first with an army so weak they were 'easily repelled' and then having an army capable of penetrating to the inner domes within a matter of weeks."

"And the stalemate we had for two years until things flared up again?"

"I don't know. It would make sense given what we know."

"It's possible Octavio signed a ceasefire on his own," said Lemery Hobber, Lord of Trade. His tone was half musing, half scathing.

"Without even the input of the council? Aaraon asked. "Again?"

Iida lifted a finger. "If he is capable of conducting a pre-emptive strike to take zapfish from Inkopolis, is that so beyond belief?"

A heavy silence hung in the room. The implications were both obvious and staggering. Octavio had been their trusted, respected - even revered, dictator almost since the Great War ended. He had gotten through many tough times and although he and all those currently present thought that the position had finally become too much for him to handle, one couldn't dismiss his past deeds or accomplishments. So this notion of acting completely on his own authority without the input of the council at large felt like no small betrayal.

"That slimy, disrespectful, deceiving…" Voda was gripping the arms of her chair with white hands. Everyone else felt the same, but they also knew that something like this had been coming, and to Sevram's mind, there was only one solution.

"Octavio needs to be replaced as dictator."

All eyes fell on him. Some wore looks of understanding, some half shocked, but all of their expression had behind them some measure of pain and apprehension.

_Well, it's now or never._ He had known he would have to say this someday soon anyway.

"He's trying to take absolute power, which he very nearly has already. If he started this war, then he's putting his own petty ambitions above the needs of the people, and we simply cannot afford that. We'll be more than ruined; we'll be extinct."

"He never has been able to get over losing the war," Voda grumbled. "Did he start this new one just to try and redeem himself or satisfy his ego?"

"It doesn't matter," Hobber groused. "Lord Sabbart's right, we need a new dictator. Octavio's doing more harm than good at this point."

"But in the middle of a war?" Bodova asked. "A disruptive change in our nation's leadership when it's needed most? The upheaval it'll cause just in the Ravalda could bring us into civil conflict if we act rashly, and that's assuming the rest of the council allows us to push the motion forward. I'm sure none of us have forgotten that the army basically rules half the council."

"The army needs to be brought low, first," Protor said. "We need to have something over them. If we push, they'll try and just take over."

"If we push too far, perhaps," Sevram agreed. "However, if we give them a big juicy morsel as a potential gain, they might be more receptive to the idea. Besides, there's one big thing that'll stop them from taking over and that's the inklings. They'll seize upon that chance to attack and the army will be caught between keeping order and fighting them. They know they'll lose if they do that."

"The problem is that we don't know what the real situation is." Aaran had both fists resting on the table. "It's almost impossible to get good, reliable, informants in the army because they've been so thoroughly indoctrinated." He winced and looked at Sevram. "Um, not that I'm implying you in anything, Lord Sabbart."

Sevram smiled and waved his hand. "Of course not; however, I think it's time I share some recent information that I received from some of my own informants. Whatever's happened or is happening, is making it much easier for what informants we do have to contact us, or more willing. Whatever the case, what I'm about to tell you, if it is indeed true, will disturb you."

"Go on then," Kolia sighed. "Might as well get all the unpleasantness out in the open."

Sevram nodded absently. "Well…" he sighed, "there's no gentle way of saying this. Octavio, a number of months ago, installed an inkling as a legate in the army."

The shocked and disbelieving expressions on everyone's faces would, in normal circumstances, have caused Sevram to chuckle in amusement; unfortunately, there was nothing funny about this.

"I do not jest. I have heard from multiple good sources that this happened. The senior staff claimed that she was hypnotized or otherwise brainwashed, but even so, to take this step implies desperation. Octavio putting an inkling in such a high position over so many of his senior officers doesn't imply much faith in them. Perhaps he holds their loyalties in question."

"It might imply even more." The rising pitch of Protor's voice indicated promising thoughts. "It implies that Octavio might have been looking to replace his senior officers entirely. We often beat down on the army quite hard but, when you think about it, if they're even half as competent as we think they actually are, then imagine how much they must be suffering under Octavio's foolishness and single-minded obsession with conquering Inkopolis, and that's only the things we actually know about. Imagine how much we don't know."

"That is true." Volda leaned back in her chair, folding her arms on her lap and staring down at her feet. "We get so wrapped up in politics and our dislike for the army brass and their puppets on the council that we forget about the poor girls facing the inklings every day, dying for a cause and a war that didn't have to be."

"Which brings us to those soldiers who were arrested." Iida leaned forward and brought his voice down slightly. "If anyone can tell us what's really going on, it's them. We need to find a way to talk to them."

Protor hummed thoughtfully, her tentacles twisting and curling as her mind worked. "If we could get the officer who was arrested to testify before the Ravalda Imperium, then all the issues would be laid bare before the council as a whole and the army faction would have to acknowledge them."

"The only way to manage that would be to have her in our custody," Sevram pointed out. "Right now, Army Intelligence have her."

"And I am Lady of Law. Did you know that I found a rather surprising number of desertion charges filed from the army less than four months ago? I didn't mention it at the time because they were shortly thereafter rescinded, with a very apologetic letter from Executrix Danali, explaining that the soldiers in question had, in fact, merely gotten lost and trapped for a time. However, it struck me as odd so I did my own investigating."

"They aren't dead, are they?" Aaran asked worriedly.

"I honestly don't know what happened to them, but one of my daughters was among their number." I can't imagine where she is, so I must find her. I believe that should be more than enough justification for her to be put into the custody of my ministry, preferably before the army realizes that I've done so. In the interests of investigating and clarifying the integrity of our soldiers, of course." She allowed a rare smirk and more than a few others at the table shared it.

Sevram interlocked his fingers tightly. "That is a dangerous game. You are certain you want to play it that way?"

"Of course. The army is hiding something and we're not going to get answers by playing nice or safe. Surely, we've all realized by now that we're not playing a game purely for control of the Ravalda Imperium but for the future of our entire nation. If the inklings are willing to negotiate, then maybe, just maybe, we can get some better terms than we were left with at the end of the last war. That could make all the difference."

Valda snorted. "The army will very much not like that. If the threat from Inkopolis ends, they fear they will lose relevance and power."

"We'll have to find a compromise," Aaran said, raising his voice just a little. "The most important thing right now is to take the first step towards being in a position to get that compromise. If we delay too long, then the opportunity may pass. Are we all agreed that we want to replace Octavio as dictator as soon as possible?"

Heads bobbed around the room and Sevram felt himself relax. This had been what he'd wanted to accomplish for months. It had been easier than he thought thanks to Aaran's news, because it gave them a further goal to work towards. Now that they were set on removing Octavio from power, maybe now things could change, and for the better this time.

"Then we'll have to find a candidate," Aaran continued. "Whoever we choose must be able to control the army and see the broader picture. It'll have to be someone the army approves of."

"More than anything," Sevram said. "They will have to be able to deal with the fate of our people, of our civilization, on their shoulders. So, we best choose wisely, or the sun will set on our civilization before we pass from this world ourselves. So, any nominations?"

**Author's Notes:**

And that's it that's all. This epilogue lampshades some of the background issues that will be covered later. Even though this is the last chapter for what will probably quite a while with all the other projects I have on my plate in addition to writing the sequel, it's honestly hard to think of what to say except to thank everyone for sticking with me through this journey. I enjoyed writing this story and I hope I can bring the next one in sooner than I fear. I also hope it brought a more satisfying conclusion to Eight and Three's relationship, at least for now.


End file.
